


COSMETIC [a Bleach OCSI]

by Charles Bhepin (Bluepencil)



Category: Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura, Bleach
Genre: Humor, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 51,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluepencil/pseuds/Charles%20Bhepin
Summary: If too little of one thing in a dump stat is bad, what happens when you prioritize a dump stat over other more useful stats? Ichigo never asked for someone who looks like an escapee from a JoJo manga to slither into his team dynamic, but that's Soul Society's problem now.





	1. 1.1 Dump Stat

**1.0 Dump Stat**  

 

* * *

What the hell, Past Me.

It was only recently that I’ve come to an awareness of the true nature of my existence. I’ve always had strange urges, habits, and turns of phrases, but it has only been since my fifteenth birthday that these mysterious traits have crystalized, and in so doing clarified to show the purpose behind it all. Now I could see the mysterious, if still fragmentary memories of my life, becoming one with my present life lived in Karakura Town, and uniting into a terrible purpose. 

And not in the sense of 'terrible' as in 'dreadful', 'daunting', 'so horrid it is almost impressive', but 'terrible' in the sense 'what the forks am I supposed to do with this?!'

From those memories came urgent visions of the pivotal events of the coming year. The fate of the whole world will lie in the balance, and for all that the heroes will triumph, there will be a lot of heartache and damage in the meanwhile. We might be putting so many expectations on one person's shoulders, that in the end perhaps those we may destroy his personality outside of those life-and-death struggles. Teenagers will be forced to save the world, and kill, and literally die on several occasions. 

My Past Self had been given the arbitrary power to prepare his future self for the battles to come. I stared at my reflection in the mirror – at my hawk-like eyes, my pouty lips, and my bright blue bleached anime hair.

I looked down at my noodly wrists.

My Past Self retained a dim awareness in the womb, and could assign points that would shape my personal development in the years to come. In blissful ignorance I have been following his plan.

 

If you could arbitrarily assign  **Strength**  as a stat to people, the average would be from  _8-11_  and the absolute superhuman maximum at  _20_ **.**  Most teenagers have  _nine_. I had  ** _six_**.

**Endurance**? I had  ** _six_**.

**Dexterity**? I had  ** _six_**.

**Beauty**? Again, most people had physical appearances going  _8-11_  with most movie stars around  _12-14_.

I  _started_  with  ** _14_**. This gives a +18 Reaction modifier, making everyone  _Amiable_  to me at first glance. I would only need to assign two more points, to become  _Friendly_  with anyone, and two more to make that instinctive reaction  _Love_. 

But while  **Beauty**  influenced the superficial initial reaction of a person to a speaker, it was  **Charisma**  that created leaders and persuades people into your line of thinking. Beauty was mechanically worthless outside of first impressions.

‘ _Why, Past Me, why?_ ’ I wailed silently. ‘ _Even in the source material this was the goddamn **dump stat** , you have made me into a goddamn useless pretty boy in a world where there are literal monsters that need to be fought off with swords! Soul-cutting swords!_’

 It didn’t even seem worth it to make me stand out because there are  _a lot_  of pretty people in Bleach. Pretty dead  _pretty dead_  people, because this is that sort of setting dammit.

 

I swung my noodly arms at the air again. Oh Jesus are my weakass bones actually bending?  _‘Why would you do this to meee?! You had all the time in the world while waiting in the womb waiting for me to be born, what was your plan?!’_

I struck an affronted pose. On instinct I struck another sassy pose. Then several more. My name, unfortunately, does not shorten into JoJo. I cannot stand for this.

Then I puckered my lips and blew a kiss at the mirror. For some reason I found myself blushing at the sight. Ugh. How does any of this help me Not Die?!

 

\--------

 

The Tanaka household was much like the others in Karakura, on the outside a small two-story townhouse that, in the middle of the early 2000s economic downturn, had at least was already fully owned. It was time for breakfast. Mama had the table laid out, Papa was reading a newspaper. The table was laid out with bacon, eggs and margarine fried rice. Wait. That was not normal.

It was perhaps more proper to call them Okaa-sama and Otou-sama, but ain’t no one had any time for that. I looked up at a wallboard which had the flag of Japan and the Philippines with America in between. A side table had a woven-rattan vase with plastic flowers beside a large marble statuette of the Statue of Liberty. Followed by cast metal replicas of the Eiffel Tower, and then the larger Tokyo Tower, in proper proportions. Over the table was a movie poster of the classic film Casablanca.

 Off to a corner was a cactus with a cowboy hat. Those were souvenirs. I remember fondly that time, that hellish time, spent in actual Florida Disneyland rather than Tokyo Disneyland.

 These were the small concessions they could give to the necessary veneer of respectability where other people might visit. You don't want to know what happens in a locked room in the second floor.

 They looked normal on the outside but my parents were total Westaboos. I could live with that.

 

“Good morning, Mama. Good morning, Papa.”

“Good morning, Jayjay!” Mila Rose Tanaka replied cheerily. Now about thirtyish, she still looked quite young. Her skin was only lightly tanned, and her sharper nose and chin made her look striking compared to other housewives. She was recruited to Japan as a ‘cultural dancer’, and by luck had managed to find happiness in a land far from her birth.

“Eat, eat! Hurry up and go to school. Break some hearts!” she said as she beckoned me to a ready chair.

Then as I approached to sit, suddenly she squealed. “Eeee! I can’t believe someone like this came from my womb!” She lunged past the table and clamped a claw-like hand over my left shoulder. “Go on a date with Mama! Let’s show them all the power of my womb!”

Clearly the only truth here was that animeland Philippines was just as crazy as animeland Japan.

Jorobu Tanaka sighed and put down the paper. My father was a plain-looking man with square glasses, he could be any salaryman anywhere. “Settle down, dear.”

Carefully he folded the paper and stared at his son with eerie intensity. “Are you even really my son?” he asked. He did not hold his wife’s former occupation against her, for that is how they met, but she was pregnant as soon as they married and when he looked at his own utterly ignorable face in the mirror sometimes… one just can’t help but to doubt, you know?

 I blinked, and then found another hand clutching at my other shoulder. So swiftly and bonelessly, it was like an octopus uncoiling! “Are we really sure you’re even really a boy?” My father began to breathe heavily. His fingers began to squeeze rythmically.

 Mama grabbed him in a headlock. “Mine!” she hissed. 

I sighed and bopped both them both on the head. “Enough of this! Stop being silly, mother, father. Thank each other and your genes for producing the gloriousness that is me.”

They nodded and then bowed at each other. Their foreheads met gently, and they gave each other shy smiles. “Thank you dear,” they whispered.

“So noisy again so early in the morning…” a voice mumbled from the stairs.

“And look! The proof that it is your beautiful genes that is responsible! Behold the cuteness that is your daughter!” this I announced, pointing with a finger held above my head.

“Good morning to you too, neechan.”

I huff “I am your brother, you know.”

“I will never be as beautiful as you, neechan.”

Inconceivable! I slid across the floor (thank you mother for making sure they are always shiningly waxed) and grabbed my unbearably cute little sister by her shoulders to assert to her face “You are perfect just the way you are! Forever be this cute, Miyako!”

Mama swooped in and declared “That’s right, never grow up to be a woman that makes Mama spend so much on cosmetics until she cries herself to sleep at night!”

Miyako looked up at her and mumbled “That is kinda sad to know-“

But father zipped over to her other side to shout “Never bring a boy to this house, Miyako! Don’t break your father’s heart! He would dieeee!”

“Beautiful family group hug!” I shouted.

“Can we not?” Miyako futilely groaned.

 Hugs! The family that squees together stays together.

Once upon a time in Karakura Town, lived a young man named Jin James Tanaka. What he had long considered normal, now he could understand were the conventions of living in crazy-ass anime land.

And much to his surprise, he was fine with that.

 

In a few more weeks he would only need to fear being stabbed to death by dead people.

* * *


	2. 1.2 Gains

 

So, there I stood, fifteen years old in a world suffused in an invisible war. It is  _life_  that is the illusion, it is  _life_  that is the false existence. The living and the dead live full lives to reincarnate into each other. 

(It was odd to me that you can only be punished for your sins done as a Whole soul while alive, and dragged into Hell, but nothing for whatever shitmongery you may have done until you are killed and reincarnate as a living soul from Soul Society; but I was not sure about this, and resolved to ask a Shinigami when there is the chance.

Do the Shinigami even still have the concept of Gods? They venerate the Spirit King, but I don't believe they actually worship him per se.)

 

In this world, soul power is a tangible thing, and now that I have a strange double perspective I was able to compare how people behaved compared to the ‘baseline’ presented by Past-Me. It is not that people over-react, but that we seem to be predisposed to intense expressions of emotion, and that energy can fuel physical abilities. Willpower can literally become power here.

Which is why Willpower is my second primary stat.

There was some slight sense to Past Me’s plan.  **Beauty**  and  **Willpower**  are things that are not easily trained. People can be innately charismatic or intelligent, or strong-willed, but it has ever been past-Me’s ethos that willpower is the first power, and as long as one does not become an unthinking bully can leverage other personal abilities to one’s benefit.

 **Strength**  and  **Constitution**  can be acquired through exercise, and while nerve impulses and flexibility determine maximum human  **Dexterity** , practice can slowly build one’s abilities here.  **Intelligence**  can be improved through study and training one’s observation, but better to make sure and make it my third primary stat.  **Perception** means protecting one’s eyes and training one’s senses, but it is one that quickly atrophies in the modern world.  **Charisma** … also useful, and so should be increased both by point allocation and with socialization and speech training. Again a stat that Past-Me has seen fit to increase.

Visualizing my personal capabilities, it goes thus –

  * STR: 6
  * CON: 6
  * DEX: 6
  * BTY: 14
  * INT: 9
  * WIL: 9
  * PER: 8
  * CHA: 9



So I am below average physically, but average mentally. Now that I was aware and free to develop my own skills and abilities, trying to compensate for my weaknesses will not help reduce my chances of taking a claw or sword to the face. Hollows are very unlikely to be persuaded by a Diplomancy build, so what the hell, Past Me!

Probably your plan was to get me to survive a Surprise!Aizen (or to surprise Aizen) (surprAizen!*), but that first involves surviving to reach Soul Society and meet Shinigami in the first place! Seriously, if you think about it Orihime didn't really get into much direct physical danger in Soul Society due to her cuteness and harmlessness, but an easier way to avoid being harmed is simply not to get involved in the plot.

 

Buut I have no choice but to try and follow what I  _assume_  was Past Me’s plan, because it is already far too late. Subconsciously I’ve been hanging around Ichigo Kurosaki for the free XP he leaches out, but that same spiritual power awakens others to their spiritual abilities and unfortunately makes them Hollow bait as well.

 

My family is at risk. And it’s all my fault. What would I be willing to give up for the power to protect them?

 

\------------------

 

... on the other hand, the existence of Kurosaki Ichigo proves that you don't actually have to give up  _shit_  to gain power. Sometimes power just gets handed to you (over and over again at suitably dramatic moments), if you are strong enough to accept it.

 

While mulling this over, I reached school barely in time. As I passed the gym teacher acting like a school rules enforcer, I gave the man a smile and a short bow. The teacher grunted back in response and turned away before closing the school gate. He didn’t give me any hassle about my obviously dyed hair.

 Which is something that has always bugged me about the sheer hypocrisy of it. Ichigo gets hassled for his hair, which looks bleached bright orange (and he claims is his natural hair color).

True, most people seem to have common black hair. Except for the people that don’t! Light brown, light blue, russet red, ivory white, fukken  _pink_ , it was almost impossible to tell who was dyeing their hair or not. (Though I suppose it doesn’t seem to matter so much for ghost people, but seriously, hair color is clearly not a phenotype in this world.)

Here my electric blue hair makes me stand out, but also made it easier to tell that I was actually male. In my childhood I had enough trouble being singled out by teachers for wearing male uniform when obviously a girl. Even cutting my hair short didn’t help at all.

 

As I entered the classroom, I saw the innocent and big-breasted [Orihime Inoue](https://media4.giphy.com/media/giyuOZ3YIee2Y/200_s.gif), who had carrot-orange hair, and who was being accosted again by Chizuru Hosho, who had the aforementioned russet red hair. [Tatsuki Arisawa was again through violence keeping Chizuru’s perverted fingers away](https://media1.giphy.com/media/oFTrp0Uy91WAo/200_s.gif) from her best friend’s body. Her hair was a natural black, and she was only slightly less boyish as I was effeminate.

I licked my lips and grinned.

“Chiiizuru~” I called out cloyingly. “Hello, my sweetums~”

“Gak! Jinja!” she screeched. Ah, so sad. Still not as good as being a JoJo.

As I approached lazily she drew back, but her hands still hovered right over her attempt to grope Orihime’s boobs as if magnetized, until finally her fear overcame her obsession and her wrists snapped back towards her body recoiling like a snapped fishing line.

Then taking a deep breath, she firmed her resolve. “What do you want? I’m not letting you take Orihime from me!”

“She’s not yours in the first place!” Tatsuki interjected.

“Hello Inoue,” I waved as he slinked past her desk. Hips out, one foot in front of the other, like a panther, this is my [weapon of choice](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMZwZiU0kKs). “Bye, Inoue.”

“Yo-yo,” she greets back in that cutely vapid way of hers. I can’t see other people’s stats, but I’d solidly put Orihime’s cuteness rating solidly equal to myself. With the right hairstyle and a more intent impression on her face, even a fifteen or sixteen! She’s probably even a little smarter than me, if her attention span didn't flit away in the meantime. It’s a shame she doesn’t leverage it.

My relationship with Orihime is that of casual acquaintances. She’s cute, but is cute enough to be a threat and Tatsuki would have to cripple some girls if they started bullying Orihime because she was getting too close to the school’s Prince.

“Chizuru, you know what I want. Go out with me~?“

She crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “No way! You know I like girls!”

I raise my pinky finger to my lips. “I’ll wear a dressss~!”

Her cheek twitched, and as she stared at my face she blushed. She considered it in her imagination. Chizuru had so far managed to get five people to willingly go out with her after her obnoxiously trying to pick them up in public. I had been  _all of them_.

My mother was an astoundingly good beautician to the point of being a costume makeup artist.

Then suddenly she shook her head. “Nooo! You’re not a part of my world! I like breasts! Big breasts! Like Ori-himeefft!” Her lunge towards Orihime was interrupted by Tatsuki’s fist.

I put my hand over my lips, palms out, and laughed my noble vileness laugh. "Nyohohoho~. But your breasts are just the perfect size for me~!”

Behind me were the sounds of wailing and outrage from the other girls in class. Mutters of “Damn you, Chizuru,” and “Kill the perverted freak,” and “Jo-chan noooo, look at mine instead!”

All right, I realize all of this sounded skeevy as hell, but [when your androgynity is to this level](https://www.dapperq.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Harmony.jpg) , trolling a lesbian like Chizuru becomes more difficult to resist. I respected the hell out of Chizuru, since despite this being crazy-ass anime land there was still massive pressure to conform. Her depraved antics, much less tolerable.

Later on her superpower would be the Ero Ranger, one displaying superhuman abilities only when there’s a pretty female enemy to sexually harass. Shrugging off rejection after rejection after rejection, enduring large amounts of comedic violence, why, she must have the Damage Resistance of an Escaped Lunatic!

Yet she was surprisingly weak to being put in the ‘heroine’ to be conquered role.  
(Only valid if girls tried it, but no one would dare because she’d jump on them taking it all as consent.)

“I don’t question your inclinations, only your methods,” I whispered as I dodged past her. “You test those who might like you for you, in all your good and bad, and so I test your resolve everyday because I  _do_  like you.”

“Don’t you patronize me!” she hissed back. “This is what I want, this is who I am. I’ll take what it means, for all the good and bad. There will be someone, better than you, who will accept  _all_  of me.”

“Girl, I’ll be your wingman any day.” Finger pistols. Then to the ears. “Call me.”

“I’ll throw a rock at your window.”

That was because Chizuru and I were neighbors. Oh, in our childhood we even swore to marry each other when older. That lasted until Chizuru realized I wasn’t a girl, and her parents simply hadn’t seen fit to inform her for years because they found it hilarious. 

I don’t know how she became aware of her inclinations in the history Past-Me knew, but in this one, sorry, I’m probably the one to blame. Girls are so much better than boys, so much that the best boy she knew looks like a girl. If I didn’t try to woo her in some sort of Pavlovian conditioning to get her to respect how the targets of her attentions felt, we’d probably still be best friends.

It’s not like she could actually accept, since the rest of the girls of the class would hate her and think it false anyway if she still tries to claim she’s a lesbian. A cruel no-win situation.

… all right, I’ll be honest. I also found her conflicted face to be hilarious. Someone who is always aggressive being shy and uncertain so suddenly, is this not the very definition of gap moe? Chizuru’s parents, you agree, yes?

Chizuru went back to her seat, and made a show of turning her back on me.

Tatsuki looked relieved, but gave me a look of scorn only slightly reduced from that she gives Chizuru. Her uncouth boyish behavior saved her from being Chizuru's type, even though she has a pretty face. I quirk an eyebrow as if to say  _'but your toned body **is**  my type, you'll protect me, won't you?'_ and she sniffed and turned away as if to say  _'get lost, string-noodle'_.

If Past-Me didn’t intend me to troll beauty-freaks like Yumichika with my superior bone structure, then he should have put those points into  **Strength**  or  **Intelligence**  instead.

 

\---

 

And then into the classroom walked in [Ichigo Kurosaki](http://i7.beon.ru/96/70/397096/86/18579086/2224156_1c096816.jpeg), the ostensible hero of this tale, scowling and leaking anti-social vibes as usual. His hair was bright yellow-orange. Again, I really couldn’t understand why people had to give him such shit over it, since as we have gathered, there is no universal ethnic hair color. Maybe it’s just the sheer eye-hurting brightness of it, not even Naruto could blonde that bad.

Could it be we are subconsciously antipathic at his sheer spiritual pressure? If such pressure forces other nearby souls to awaken, and spiritually-activated souls become delicious targets to Hollows, then these untrained individuals can be dangerous to ignorant society. Excellent when dead as a Shinigami and protector of the living, dangerous to the living while existing among them. In this context, no wonder many messiahs end up being killed by the people they are out to save.

I gave him a friendly nod, which he returned.

 

We were not exactly friends, but we did get along. I actually met Ichigo about the same time as Tatsuki, back when we were children. Influenced by Past-Me, I had been insistent on taking Martial Arts classes. It didn't help.

Now most of the boys in class are afraid of me for… reasons. Apart from being able to mobilize the teenage girls as the ‘Prince’ (and sometimes 'Princess') of the school, they don’t like being put in the role of the heroine either. Since my abilities could be trained, and I have been gaining free XP simply from proximity to Ichigo, Past Me had by now placed two ranks in  **Persuasion**  and one in  **Barter**.

They knew that I knew that they knew that I knew that they knew if I really cared to press the issue they might be tempted enough to consider crossing over into a new world. Insecure teenage boys, heh. I must admit that Beauty is working well enough as a social lubricant, even if that's irrelevant to the ideal of not getting a sword to the gut.

I could feel [Mizuiro Kojima](https://mtgcardsmith.com/view/complete/full/2017/5/20/1495316369262745.png)’s glare at my back. Ichigo’s friend has the same cute boy aesthetic and doesn’t lack confidence in finding a girlfriend. In fact our circumstances for being saved by Ichigo are somewhat similar. But boy, you’re an 11 at best. Better not let me be around you when you try to pick up older girls, tee hee.

But I knew that Ichigo could not give a shit about anything like that. For all I knew, Ichigo might as well be asexual, and much sympathies to Orihime’s plight. What the air-headed beauty liked about Ichigo’s frowning face was a mystery even to me, but I had decided to latch onto him for protection against bullies. Now I know that was possibly a mistake.

We do have something in common though. Despite my place in the school’s social hierarchy, I had bigger problems than merely school romances. He could see ghosts and be pestered about their regrets so they could move on (which is a lot more important than it sounds despite their ignorance of it, else they would turn into Hollows) while I always had the strange feeling that there was something of vital importance I was placed to do into this world. (Not being murdered by Aizen or Ywatch was now that life-defining clarity.)

“You’re late, strawberry,” I mentioned. “Got into a fight again?”

“Just some no-respect skateboarding punks,” Ichigo replied. It was nothing to him, he had all confidence in picking a fight with multiple people.

As the class started, I lowered my face to my desk to hide my stark terror. Past-Me’s memories were clear – the story begins with Ichigo getting into a fight with some skateboarders who knocked over some flower offerings to a girl killed in a road accident.

That night, a Hollow would hunt.

After a while, I nodded, determinedly slapping a spindly fist into a papery palm. Fifteen years my Past-Me had been aiming for this singular event. Ready or not, there was something I could do about Ichigo's first brush with a Hollow and a Shinigami.

I tuned out the classes the rest of the day. I didn’t notice Tatsuki glancing at Ichigo, and then at myself, concerned for both of us.

 


	3. 1.3 Harm

You know how friends have license to be an asshole to each other? What you’d take as an insult from others, it’s a hobby for your circle to find the best put-down for each other? And then there’s one among you that kinda does it all the time?  
  
Ichigo is that sort of asshole friend to Keigo and Mizuiro, but not to Chad. But when I’m around, I’m apparently that asshole friend to Ichigo, a role which Rukia would later occupy. “Yo, strawberry, you have a saving people thing, right? You do favors for people when they ask it of you?”  
  
Ichigo rolled his eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that. It means protector, dumbass.”  
  
“Psht, yeah. Dye your hair red and then I’ll stop calling you that.” Leaving aside how strawberry-red hair would completely justify it.  
  
Ichigo looked at his juicebox wondering if he should throw it at my face, then sighed and tossed it aside instead. Ichigo’s sense of being would not abide bullying the weak. “What do you want, Tanaka?”  
  
“Just a question – let’s say you see a fire, and there’s a young girl screaming for help, clinging to the sides of a three-story window afraid and wondering if she should jump… would you rush in and try to save her, or stand under the window to tell her to jump, you’ll catch her?”  
  
Ichigo looked at me with his customary frown and some slight surprise at the insightfulness of the question. Man, constantly, it’s as if people don’t expect beautiful people to be capable of being or something. After some time he answered “I’d tell her to jump.”  
  
“Whoa, Ichigo, if you fail you’d basically just have murdered someone. Even if you succeed, you could both be hurt!” [Keigo Asano](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Keigo_Asano), Ichigo’s somewhat goofy somewhat of a loser of a friend pipes up. He then cringed at my approving smile. He looked like a slacker, but liked video game RPGs and other nerdy pursuits, but proved the surface impression by being terrible with his grades.  
  
“I’d catch her,” Ichigo nodded confidently.  
  
My heart beat faster in my chest. Ah! Is this the main character’s aura. I could believe it when he’s the one saying it.  
  
I continued: “Well then, what if there’s a fire truck around, and firemen below, but the girl is still shrieking but they don’t seem to be doing anything? Would you still rush in?”  
  
Ichigo’s frown deepened. “What? No, of course not.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
Ichigo made a small shrug. “You have to trust professionals to know what they’re doing. Bystanders who act without thinking can just do more harm.” Spoken well as expected from the son of a doctor. For all his delinquent reputation, it was likely for Ichigo to grow up and become a doctor, continuing to help people, and taking over his father’s privately-owned general medical clinic.  
  
I poked him in the middle of the forehead. Poke. Poke. Until he grabbed my finger in annoyance.  
  
“The lesson is, don’t get in the way of actual trained professionals when they’re doing their jobs. Remember that, strawberry! I’ll hold you to it if you futz this up!”

 

 

\-----------

  
Yeah I had no hope for that.  
  
My rush home was interrupted by a pack of young thugs because  _of course_. I sighed. A group of teenage toughs swooped in and corralled me into an alley. Sadly, this isn’t even my fifth time being kidnapped. At least it’s not a pack of middle-aged women again.  
  
“There’s probably a whole lot of socioeconomic reasons and that who rival schools strata why we are all here at this point in time, but that doesn’t matter. If you want my money, that’s fine. Could you let me pass?” I asked gently. “Violence is so gauche, you know?”  
  
“Heh. Still thinking you can buy your way out of trouble when no one cares about your looks?”  
  
The group parted to show a tall, burly bully with face piercings and bright bleached yellow hair and eyebrows. Canary yellow, so it’s not as intimidating as it should. All the bruises on his face and his swollen lips didn’t help. “Oh. [Reiichi](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Reiichi_%C5%8Cshima). Aren’t you still suspended? You look like you’re going to take a few more days off.” I wiped in front of my face to indicate his own distress.  
  
Reiichi Oshima scowled at me, about to say that we were nothing alike, but a man’s pride meant he could not show such a face that implied he was weak. “Shaddap, freak. You know what pisses me off more than your face? It’s that whole damn attitude of yours. I can tolerate a damn homo, but you’re just looking down on people like us all the time. You have everything handed you, never having to work hard for anything!”  
  
I nodded. “Can’t argue with that. This face has made me such the spoiled youth.”  
  
Reiichi stopped, his cheek twitching. This was clearly not going to his script.  
  
Reiichi was standing there in a slouch with his hands on his pockets. And then from behind him stood up an even larger teenage thug, clad in oversized green T-shirt over a long-sleeved black T-shirt and baggy pants. He shoved Reiichi aside as he moved to loom over me. He was tall and broad-faced, with a broken nose that never quite healed properly.  
  
I winced. “Man, if you want to do ghetto style, you need more bling than that.” I snapped twice, and pointed with my right elbow resting on my left wrist, my right hand and wrist bobbing up and down like some sort of disapproving duck. “And those colors should clash even more horribly. Have you tried purple?”  
  
“So this is the freak holds Kurosaki’s strings? Tch. Whatever,” he spat aside. “Girl, boy, as long hurting this one gets him running.”  
  
“Okay, one, that isn’t true. Kurosaki and I are barely more than acquaintances. He rescued me once or twice, but he does that to everybody.” I looked past him to meet Reiichi’s eyes and held an accusing stare. Then I beamed. “And instead of Kurosaki’s sisters, you told him to take me hostage instead? Well thank you! You’re nicer than you look.”  
  
Without even a beat, the larger thug snapped his right fist out, backhanding Reiichi, sending the burly teen spinning and into the walls. “So tell me about Kurosaki’s sisters,” he rumbled out.  
  
“I don’t advise going there, sir. Battles among young men is one thing, but if you involve family, parents get in involved. Doctor Kurosaki has no small influence in the community.”  
  
“Do I look like I give a shit about that?” He bared his teeth. “Reiichi was right about one thing, your face does piss me off, half-breed.” He began to put on a brass knuckle.  
  
He was named Noboru Ito, Karakura’s Green Tiger, and went to another high school. High schools had their so-called ‘guardians’ which were really little more than the head delinquent. High schools had their King and Queens and Prince and Princesses for the most influential and most beautiful people in their populations. They pitted their strongest for the honor of [becoming legends](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shonan_Junai_Gumi), ones that would last longer in the generations of the youth than facile, fleeting social butterflies.  
  
Our school had Kurosaki Ichigo, and by virtue of having accidentally beaten down all other prime thugs from other schools in the region, he was its ‘guardian’. It was still a contested position, since delinquents tend to get suspended for fighting and Ichigo was at least academically competent. Since Reiichi here just lost to another, he was out of the running.  
  
“You start talking, and we see how many teeth I don’t have to knock out.”  
  
I raised my palms up and fluttered my fingers. “Ah, ah. Really, we don’t have to do this. If you want Kurosaki, I know where he lives. Come on, it’s even in a phone book! It’s not hard.”  
  
Intently watching his clenched fist, I didn’t even see his leg snap up until the tips of his steel-toed shoes was buried in my gut. The pain was so bad I collapsed and started dry-heaving.  
  
I was hauled back up by the hair. Ow, ow, ow, with what little strength I had left I forced my legs to support my weight. “You know what, I think you’re  _lying to me_  about not being important to Kurosaki.”  
  
They had all learned that challenging Ichigo directly was pointless. He had no ‘honor’ to uphold, no interest in being the strongest. He picked fights only for his own reasons.  
  
Seriously, dude, I’m not Ichigo’s under-boy. You realize how being this beautiful makes it difficult to have deep male friendships? This was why Chizuru was the closest being to my best friend, we were both pariahs to our gender. “That’s crazy talk.”  
  
“And now you’re calling me stupid too.” Only his friends and families were a strong person’s vulnerabilities. Noboru brought his face close to mine, close enough I could smell his cigarette-smoke stinking breath, and after a few moments his expression broke open into a leer. “Hey. Do you have a sister?”  
  
Roots of my hair be damned. I slapped my palm over his wrist and dropped out of his grip. I began to back away fearfully.  
  
“Looks like you do. Heheheh. You gave up Kurosaki so quickly, are you really that much of a spineless weasel?" His lips curled up into a sneer. "Or were you thinking to lead me to a trap? You're the stupid one." Well, yes. Cellphones were a thing now. He licked at his upper teeth, and I could see four front teeth missing replaced by gold crowns. "I’m going to enjoy this.”  
  
I shook my head sadly. “You won’t.”  
  
The other teenage thugs behind me prevented leaving or looking into the alley. As I bumped into them, one of them slid his arms under my armpit up over my shoulders in an underhook, then clasping his hands together behind my head to seal the clinch. I didn’t have the strength to break that hold, my soft torso was open like a carcass on a hook ready to be slit open.  
  
One last time I tried. “I may be a half-breed, but do note that half of my blood comes from  _South-East Asia_. I don’t enjoy violence, but I do recognize its necessity sometimes.”  
  
“Shut up. Now's the time for only pain.”  
  
“Did you ever hear about the martial art of Dim Mak, the Death Touch?”  
  
The delinquent boss actually paused. He stared at me in mute disbelief. “You can’t be that dumb. Who would even believe that?” He laughed, and ran his lips over his upper teeth, as he raised his right fist with the brass knuckle. “Time to lose that pretty face of yours.”  
  
Wait, stop.  
  
My face was literally worth a million yen. Let me survive to go to Hollywood, and I’ll be worth millions of dollars. I literally could not afford to have my face damaged in any way. But let’s flash back for a moment.  
  
Past-Self had the chance to decide my future development by assigning points to basic stats. He had five free points to allocate. He gave me the background of a [Lady’s Man] to give me 14 BTY by taking two each from STR, END, and DEX. The minimum average was 8.  
  
So for my stats of:

 INT 9 (+1)  
 WIL 9 (+1)  
 PER 8 (+0)  
 CHA 9 (+1)

That’s only three points! Where did the other two go?  
  
It was at this point I lightly bent my wrist and touched the exposed skin of the young ruffian holding me.  
  
**[Harm]**.  
  
That delinquent screamed as if boiling oil was being poured over his arms. He let go and backed up unsteadily, scrambling until he hit a brick wall and slumped down shivering and clutching his arm.  
  
I slipped through the gap, but rather than run out of the alley hoping being in public would save me (curse you, DEX 6 and END 6), I opened my arms out wide and exhaled. The light of the sunset beyond the alley silhouetted my form.  
  
“And a master of the Death Touch can his pressure points with  _any part_  of his body.” I grinned then waved my arms out a circle ending with my left hand palms out. “If you don’t believe  _Dim Mak_ , would you believe  _Hokuto no Ken_?” The Fist of the North Star. “Whuuaaaa-… !” I yelped out in a high-pitched imitation of [Kenshiro](http://blog.alltheanime.com/mad-max-and-anime/), who was imitating Bruce Lee.  
  
Noboru scowled and considered the looks his gang were giving him. “No. I don’t believe you. Get him!”  
  
“But, boss!”  
  
He punched that underling in the face. He spun around and crashed to the ground, instantly out like a light. “I said go!”  
  
Screaming exuberantly the remaining charged in. I exhaled, bent down, and reached out with two fingers outstretched.  
  
**[Harm]. [Harm].**  
  
The two nearest hooligans crashed to the ground on either side of him. Insensate, shaking and bubbling from their mouths. The last stopped, comically standing there balanced on one foot.  
  
Here I smiled and tilted my head slightly to the side. “And did you know a Master could apply the Death Touch  _without touching_? A pressure point can be hit  _through objects_. Clothing. Weapons. Poles. Whatever connects the true expert with the enemy.”  
  
Now I took a step forward. Still smiling. His face still locked into a sneer, Noboru stepped one foot back.  
  
“Such as this ground between us.”  
  
**[Harm]**.  
  
The sound of their boss screaming shook his underlings back to some awareness, and they could only look on as a giant fell to his knees without even being touched. His insides were like liquid fire. No amount of muscle or pain tolerance earned through hard living and fighting could prepare you against an attack that hit the soul directly.  
  
The  **Harm** spell was the first spell in [Necromantic Black] school of Magic. It could affect most biological and mystical beings. It fizzled against lifeless technological contraptions, and people with very high Technological aptitude, and drained a caster’s  ** _Fatigue_** in order to cast.  
  
But this was the world of Bleach.  _Literally everything_  had a soul, even objects. That was the whole damn point of being a Fullbringer.  
  
“Once to stun. Twice to paralyze. A third touch  ** _kills_** , no matter who, no matter where.” As I lunged forward, Noboru reflexively swiped his arm out in a warding backhand as a cross counter. His face froze in an ‘oh shit’ expression with eyes bulging out and nostrils wide as a bull as he realized this was as counterproductive as it gets.  
  
**[Harm].**  
  
My head snapped back, even with the reduced force of that blow. Ow. Noboru made another short gargled scream, and slumped face down into the alley. He was out cold.  
  
Jin rubbed at his head and turned to look at the other delinquents. They recoiled at his glare. I looked to my side and there, squatting in the corner of the alley walls and a dumpster, looking deceptively relaxed, Reiichi grinned at me.  
  
What I said earlier was actually a lie.  **[Harm]**  cost  **-5 Fatigue**  to cast. I had total of  ** _twenty six_  Fatigue**. It was exhausting beyond belief. It would actually take five or more to kill a person. One more attempted casting of Harm would knock me out entirely. My smile grew wider. I nodded at Reiichi, and we stood up at the same time to face Noboru’s crew. The impression of strength was often strength in itself.  
  
A battle avoided was a battle won. Noboru’s ass was still up in the air with his joints locked while knocked out. So I began rifling through the teen gang boss’ pockets and brought out his wallet. I took all the money, which sadly wasn’t much. I turned to the other little thugs and said “I gave you all a chance to avoid violence. I offered you all my money. So now, give me all  _your_  money.”  
  
As they dithered in fear and unwillingness to approach to touching range, I pointed to one. “You. Collect it, and hand it over to Reiichi.”  
  
“Dammit, Jin, don’t make me do math.”  
  
“Eh, shuffle it, cut it in half, then cut that half into half for your share, the usual.” I closed my eyes took five deep breaths. I could recover two Fatigue every ten seconds. “Now get over here.”  
  
Reluctantly he moved closer, and I quickly jabbed him with a thumb to the neck.  **[Heal]**. Reiichi shivered in place. His bruises began to fade.  
  
He let out a raspy chuckle. “Yeahh, that’s the stuff. The Life Touch.”  
  
It was like a light went off behind their eyes. It was not that Kurosaki that held my strings. I held Oshima’s, who was unseated by Kurosaki as the ruling delinquent of the school. I was  _the secret boss_  of Karakura High. Which was again, expressly  ** _not true._**  
  
With palpable relief, the other thugs began to hand over their money. I took slow deep breaths as I sat on Noboru’s bulk. One good thing about my pitiful lung capacity is that I always looked exhausted anyway. Let fatigue be a more deliberate stylish laziness. From their intimidated expressions and the cringing way the one I’d chosen was handing over the money, a further demonstration wouldn’t be necessary.  
  
I think it’s the sheer dichotomy of it. With this face, with this smile, and the knowledge that perfected martial arts techniques require almost literally zero effort, they’re not going to take the risk. After all, what else are they going think of? Fucking  _magic?_  
  
I bid them all good afternoon and left the alley they’d dragged me into. The feeling of gaining XP was until level up was a unique one, like a knot in one’s shoulders suddenly unraveled. I didn’t get an illusionary screen where I could assign points or something, but nonetheless it felt like little switches in the back of my mind were ready to be flicked. Like an epiphany or something.  
  
There are actually many more impressive and much more destructive [Kido](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Kid%C5%8D), and all that [Harm] had going for it was that is instantaneous, no-incantation, anything within line-of-sight, and  _invisible_. [Heal] worked the same way, but in the opposite function. These were the Necromantic Arts.  
  
I now had one free-floating point that I could burn to gain an instant +1 improvement to any basic stat, a rank in any Skill, the learning of a technological schematic, or  _a new magic spell._  
  
Instantly I sank that free point into another new Spell.

  
**Strength. Dexterity. Constitution. Beauty**. The Physical.  
**Willpower, Intelligence, Perception, Charisma.**  The Cerebral.  
  
Because do you see a stat called  _Wisdom_  anywhere in there?


	4. 1.4 Purpose

  
  
  
Or Luck. None of that. I make my own Luck!  
  
I crashed through the door and loudly announced “Mom! I’m not staying for dinner. Tonight a Night Bird flies!”  
  
“That song is about prostitutes, you know,” my mother calmly replied from relaxing on our massage chair with her face caked in blue mudpack.  
  
“… regardless, tonight I need some Jimmies rustled. Leather me up, ma!”  
  
She took off the cucumber slices over her eyes, glanced at me with a laser-focused intensity and asked “Which one do you want? The one with the fringes or the one with the tassels?”  
  
I put my finger to my chin and thought about it carefully. “The one which makes me look more obnoxiously ‘Murikan!”  
  
Her smiled widened to predatory levels. “Good choice.”

 

\---------  


Later I learned that Jimi Hendrix’ most recognizable costume makes me look more like a Hussar, but America has always been about cultural appropriation Fuck Yeah!, so I guess it worked out great.  
  
Nicely done, ma!

\---------  


And in this manner I found myself in the Kurosaki household’s living room.  
  
“Hello again,” I bowed. “I am Tanaka Jin James, a classmate of Ichigo-kun.” I sat primly with my knees together and my hands on my lap. Such a proper posture contrasted heavily with [my complete Jimi Hendrix getup](http://www.feelnumb.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/jimi_hendrix_general_Lasalle_royal_hussars_military_jacket.jpg).  
  
[Karin Kurosaki](https://static.comicvine.com/uploads/square_small/0/2372/288658-61223-karin-kurosaki.jpg) scowled at me, while [Yuzu](http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/27500000/Kurosaki-Family-bleach-anime-27540436-500-375.jpg) looked a bit awed at my fashion. “So pretty…” Yuzu mumbled. They were fraternal twins, and Karin had a boyish look to her with dark hair cut to frame her face, while Yuzu had light dirty blond hair and was cute as a button. They sat at the dining table to observe the proceedings.  
  
[Isshin Kurosaki](http://static.zerochan.net/Demotivational.Poster.full.910543.jpg) and Ichigo sat on the other couch, both their arms crossed over their chest and glaring at me suspiciously. Ichigo noticed this and scowled, refusing to imitate his father. They had somewhat of an adversarial relationship.  
  
He slammed his palms on the center table and yelled “Just what the hell do you think you’re playing at, Tanaka!”  
  
“As I said, I would like to stay over for tonight, please.”  
  
“This isn’t a hotel. Now get out!”  
  
Isshin held up his hand. “Settle down, Ichigo. Before that, there is something we have to know.” He leaned forward, chin with a scraggly beard out, and I could see why Ichigo liked to call him ‘goat-face’. “Tell me – are you a girl or a boy?”  
  
I nodded. I was used to this. “I am a boy.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Perfectly, sir.” Then tilting my head to the side I added “Don’t worry. I won’t be sneaking into Ichigo’s room.”  
  
He looked at me, as if trying to digest the veracity of my words without asking for a physical examination. He looked towards Ichigo. Then to me. Back to his son. Then back to me.  
  
Then he beamed and gave me a double-thumbs-up. “I am completely fine with this.”  
  
“Shut it, goatface!” Ichigo elbowed his father in the back of the head and drove his face into the table. The burly bearded doctor's neck recoiled, and he clipped son’s jaw his own elbow. The snap of bones and both of them returning to sit back on their couch clutching at their faces took but a second of ultraviolence.  
  
This was normal in this house?  
  
“Yeah, yeah, but why should we let you?” Karin asked while nonchalantly picking at her ear with her pinky finger like some sort of young delinquent. She often felt the voice of sanity in this house, and while clearly the men of her family only understood violence it’s not like they’re capable of learning anything from it.  
  
“I fear for my safety tonight. I have a strong feeling something bad will happen if I stay with my family.”  
  
“Then why should we let you risk our family instead!”  
  
I pointed at her brother and her father. “Your family has a capacity for violence my family doesn’t have.” I clapped my palms together and smiled. “I will be blunt, then. Strawberry. I know you can see ghosts.”  
  
Ichigo and Isshing paused from trying to strangle each other. “Wa-what, what are you saying, that’s ridiculous!” said Ichigo, letting go and taking a laid-back pose on the couch. The effect was spoiled by the twitching of his right arm over the backrest.  
  
“I’m not spiritually powerful enough to see them, but I have a sense of when they’re there.”  
  
“Ghosts don’t exist. That’s just silly superstitions.” Karin interjected. Despite being able to see them just as well as her brother. Yuzu pouted in envy.  
  
“So it’s that sort of thing, huh?” said Isshin in a low voice.  
  
“It’s that sort of thing,” I replied cheerily.  
  
“Fine. We have free beds in the clinic. You can sleep here on this couch, or you could stay in Ichigo’s room.”  
  
“Dad, what are you doing?!” Ichigo protested. “You can’t be entertaining this sort of bullshit. Then they’d keep doing it and never leave you alone!”  
  
“Did I mention I’m somewhat of a fair cook? In thanks, please allow me to prepare dinner for you tonight. I brought ingredients.” I gestured towards the large bag I carried with me.  
  
Ichigo pointed at me. “I won’t be bribed by your poison!”  
  
“I would never disrespect  _cocido_  like that, you ass!” I pointed back.  
  
Yuzu, who was 11 years old, was the one who mainly handled cooking in their house. She looked conflicted until I mentioned it was fair chance to learn new recipes.  
  


\----  


Karin kept a careful watch as we prepared  _cocido –_ or more properly,  _sinigang_ , a sour soup. Talking to Yuzu in her domain was easy, she hung on to my theories of flavor. Japanese dishes were known world over by their combination of beauty in presentation and simplicity in preparation. Filipino dishes were characterized by a combination of overwhelming flavors. The idea was to have a spread and take from each dish; spicy, salty, sweet, sour, savory, etc., and a mix of textures; like colors on a paintbrush, combining into one experience as suits the taste of the eater.  
  
Now and again Karin eyed the jacket I’d removed and left to hang on the back of a chair. Flashy as it looked, once I explained that it was a military uniform, she looked much more interested.  
  
“It looks like something from a marching band. You sure about that?”  
  
“Where do you think the term ‘marching band’ comes from? Bands like that had a military background too. But this particular uniform is a Hussar jacket, worn by cavalry officers. Even in the time of guns, they still had a role flanking and charging battle lines, hacking at riflemen with their cavalry sabers before they had a chance to affix bayonets.”  
  
“So why do you wear it?”  
  
“Because it’s flashy as hell, of course. I look good in it, so why not?”  
  
She blanched in disgust.  
  
“You disapprove?”  
  
Karin shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I know fashion is a thing that people enjoy.”  
  
“The purpose of fashion is to accentuate your being. It’s like this gold tassel here – would it still work as well when less visible against a white suit? It takes effort to look good, and like zen it is the ultimate expression of skill to do so with apparently no effort.” I flicked at my hair with flair.  
  
In a small voice Yuzu asked “… how do I become as beautiful as you?”  
  
“Yuzu, you don’t need advice from  _a guy_  who dresses… like… that...” Karin objected. The trailing end of that sentence was in a more doubtful tone. Why yes,  _of course_  straight women look for gay men for the best advice on how to look good. I look like this, so of course I must be doing something right.  
  
I chuckled. Myohoho. “You look unconvinced.”  
  
Karin shrugged. “I think a lot of it just money and time that could be used better, that’s all.”  
  
Yuzu looked at herself. “Do I need new clothes?”  
  
“Darling, you’re cute right now and you know what makes you  _more cute_.” I patted Yuzu lightly on the head. She let out a little tee-hee.  
  
I continued: “But what you must first understand that beauty has its purpose. What you want is to affect a Reaction from others. Physical beauty is only one part of it, how you dress, how you present yourself, all of these combine into what makes a person beautiful. The purpose of Beauty is to set others at ease, or from another point of view, to get others to let their guard down in your presence.”  
  
Karin frowned again. “That sounds manipulative.”  
  
“It’s human psychology, we can’t escape it. We humans like to see beauty. Part of why we who work so hard to make ourselves look good feel good after it, is the unconscious knowledge that other people would not so easily have an advantage over us. Sometimes it is all we have, you know? Other people can be smarter, stronger, born to rich and influential families…  
  
Sometimes beauty is all we have to slightly even the scales to get people to listen to our requests, to make friends, to land a good job, to forgive our mistakes. We all have to work to try and make life fair while being accused of unfairness.”  
  
I looked out to the distance, remembering all those taunts and lies told about me by other children, and the parents who always believed their little angels over me because I was beautiful enough that surely I would ruthlessly take advantage of it to tell lies. I cried about the unfairness of it all many times, and were it not for Past-Me’s influence, I’d have done something to ruin my face. I’d have given anything to be forgettable.  
  
Until one day I decided,  _‘No, enough, you have taken enough advantage of me, no more! I am myself and I refuse to be hammered down to comply with your sensibilities.’_  This was why Chizuru and I resonated so much.  
  
“Life, in a way, is like a game. It has rules. Sometimes you just have to play to your strengths instead of trying to whack away at your weaknesses. Not everyone can have a pretty face, but everyone can act in a way that is Beautiful – that is, in a way that provokes a positive reaction in others.  
  
Looking good is a virtue in itself because if you take the effort to look presentable, you show you value yourselves, and the more likely other people will treat you with value.”  
  
Karin began to thoughtfully tap at her chin. “Huh. I guess that makes sense. I’ve never heard it explained that way before.”  
  
I looked away. I was suddenly reminded that Masaki Kurosaki died… no, murdered, by a ghost… six years ago, when these girls were only 5 years old. Ichigo had been such an energetic smiling and somewhat cowardly sheer mama’s boy, blaming himself for her death and flipping personality almost 180 degrees into this brooding loner when not picking fights.  
  
This house had seen little female influence during their precious growing years. It’s actually something of a minor miracle that Yuzu ended up as girly as she did.

\----  


Dinner was a loud affair, more Isshin’s fault with his aggravating voice repeatedly yelling and telling me to visit more often. He said he’d be willing to hand Ichigo over as the wife, which provoked Ichigo to start yelling at him in return.  
  
I winced, and Yuzu whispered a quick “Sorry! “ Karin gave me a look that said  _‘Can you believe these assholes?’_  
  
I nodded. It was fine.  
  
Mmm. ‘Goat-face’ notwithstanding, Isshin did have a raw physicality that could be attractive to women. Maybe he’s been having casual encounters even though he says he is still mourning his wife (as shown by her wall-spread poster photo being the focus of the living room) but that meant these girls could only meet any other women entering this house with a cynical eye.  
  
Maybe I should visit more often? Neither girl nor boy, nor a woman, I was not a threat to their world-view.  
  
Ichigo tried to stab his father with a chopstick. My eyebrow twitched. I turned to Karin and gave her a look that said  _‘Look, if you want to get away from these assholes,’_  then I flicked my gaze and face towards the window and the street outside  _‘I invite you sometime to take dinner at my house’_.  
  
She smirked. Or maybe she took that to mean  _‘I regret coming here, now I can’t leave’_.

  
\-----------------------  


Later, as the lights went out, and people began to turn in to sleep, I barged into Ichigo’s room.  
  
“Strawberry, you’re being noisy. What’s up?”  
  
“What’s up the hell!” was the response. “You said you wouldn’t sneak into my room!”  
  
“I didn’t sneak. I knocked.”  
  
“You kicked my door in, you lunatic!”  
  
“Ooh, Ichigo! Who is this?! She has an interesting style!”  
  
Wait, was that -? “What was that?” I looked around his room. Ichigo scowled at me again.  
  
“What, are you playing with me? Can’t you see this shrimp? I have enough of a problem, now there’s two of you.”  
  
“Who are you calling a shrimp, you, you… you shrimp?!”  
  
I rubbed at my eyes and looked again. Ichigo’s room was empty save for himself. “I just heard someone,” I admitted to Ichigo. Past-Me’s information was right! There was a Shinigami named Rukia Kuchiki here. And I could not see her at all.  
  
Fuck.


	5. 1.5 Death

  
“You can hear me? Interesting! Your friend has some spiritual awareness, Ichigo.”  
  
“And who might you be, mysterious voice?” I asked.  
  
“Oh! Pardon my manners. I am [Kuchiki Rukia](http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/vsbattles/images/d/d4/Kuchiki-Rukia-byakuya-and-rukia-25226277-695-1024.png/revision/latest?cb=20160428015457). Nice to meet you.”  
  
“Nice to meet you as well. I am Tanaka Jin James.” I bowed at nothing. “Please take care of me.”  
  
“I am actually over here. You cannot perceive direction? It is impressive, anyway.” Then presumably she turned to Ichigo to say “Now why can you not be so polite? How rude you are, Ichigo!”  
  
“I don’t need to take that from you two home invaders!”  
  
I sat down on the floor, formally resting on my knees as if to partake in a tea ceremony.  
  
“You have invisible women visiting you at night now, strawberry? How scandalous.” I made a show of thinking it over carefully. “Also how convenient! But I think you are still much too young for that sort of thing.”  
  
“And you shut up too!” He jabbed an outstretched finger in my direction in return. “Wait… you said you knew about ghosts! You’re just playing with me, aren’t you?”  
  
I nodded. “Yes. I am.”  
  
“You’re not even denying it!”  
  
“… should I have?”  
  
His eyebrows twitched. Lacking a suitable response, he simply grimaced, threw his hands up to the air and turned around on his study table chair to sulk. Oh, Ichigo. You are severely misunderstanding who is the ‘boke’ in this ‘boke-and-tsukommi’ dynamic of ours.  
  
Addressing nothing, I asked “And as for you, mysterious voice, what brings you to strawberry’s room at this hour? Do you need help with something in order to move on from this world?”  
  
“Oh, no. I am not a ghost.” Rukia paused. “Well technically, I am a ghost, I am a Plus soul… but I am a Shinigami.”  
  
“I see. I do hope you’re not here to collect a soul. None of the residents seem in danger of dying just yet.”  
  
“No, nothing of the sort! It is my duty to perform  _konso_  and send Pluses into Soul Society, but I had already done so for a spirit hiding behind Ichigo here. I was curious about someone with the spiritual awareness not just to see ghosts but to talk and even touch them. That is a rare level of spiritual power for someone still alive.” Rukia’s tone grew solemn. “That is dangerous.”  
  
“Fascinating. Please do explain.”  
  
“Yeah, sure, just everyone ignore me in my own room in my own house…” Ichigo groused. He stared at the sight of two people sitting on their knees, chatting happily like schoolgirl friends, even though only one could see the other. One wore an all-black black kimono and hakama outfit with a sword like that of a samurai from the past, while the other had the getup of a modern officer/glam rocker. We rested our palms in the air, as if there was a table between us and a formal tea set.  
  
He told me later: their stylish gestures, hiding their mouths when laughing politely at each other's turns of phrase, cattily waving after compliments, all matched. It was downright disturbing, that’s what it was.  
  
“You actually believe this retard?” Ichigo asked. “You can’t even see the little brat.”  
  
“W-what, how insolent! You can believe in ghosts but do not believe in the existence of shinigami?!” Rukia protested. “Learn your place! I might look like this, but I have lived ten times longer than you have!”  
  
“Miss Kuchiki here has told me that she had just sent a soul to Soul Society, and you saw it happen. If you only believe what you can see, to deny what you have just seen makes you the retard.” I lifted my palm up to my face as if sipping an invisible cup of tea.  
  
"Like HELL!" Ichigo angrily flipped the invisible and nonexistent table between Rukia and I, only to realize and belatedly grimace again that he was playing into our delusions. Ichigo, please.  
  
Aggrieved, Rukia snapped back “Listen, boy, I will kindly explain it with illustrations so even an idiot like you can understand!” Rukia brandished a sketchpad. I could hear the sounds of furious scribbling. “In this world there are two types of souls!  
  
There are  ** _Plus_**  souls, which you might know as ghosts. These are the good spirits.  
  
There are  ** _Minus_**  souls, which are called  **Hollows**. They are the bad spirits. They attack living and dead beings alike and devour their souls!  
  
A Shinigami’s duty is composed of two parts. The first is to send Plus souls via the Soul Burial by touching them with the hilt of our zanpakto, and send them to Soul Society to be reborn. The other is to extinguish Hollows!  
  
Now, do you have any questions?”  
  
“Can I start with why your drawings abnormally suck?”  
  
It was funny seeing Ichigo recoil in place getting an uppercut from nothing.  
  
“I think it looks lovely,” I mentioned.  
  
“Why thank you!” Rukia happily accepted my praise.  
  
“You can’t even see her!” Ichigo protested and pointed accusingly at me before crashing to the floor.  
  
Imaginary tea sip. So calming.  
  
Ichigo rubbed at the back of his head. “Fine, fine. If you’re here to send souls to the afterlife, you’ve already done that. Why are you still here?”  
  
“My current mission is to destroy a Hollow. I have tracked it to his house…” Rukia’s tone grew pensive, “… but mysteriously, I can no longer feel its presence.”  
  
A bestial growl came from the outside.  
  
“It is as if something was hiding its presence…” Rukia continued thoughtfully.  
  
“Hey Shinigami!” Ichigo yelled. “Didn’t you hear that?”  
  
I looked towards the wall to the outside. “There was a strange roar…” I moved to get up, then fell back. Ouch, knee cramp.  
  
Rukia turned back to look at us. “What do you mea-“ GRRROOOAAAAAAARRRGH!  
  
“That is the voice of a Hollow! For you both to hear it before, I, a Shinigami-”  
  
There was another scream. “That’s my sisters!” Ichigo roared too.  
  
“Hold!” Rukia shouted. “You two stay here. I will deal with it!”  
  
“What trash are you talking about?! That’s my family being attacked here!”  
  
“What nonsense are YOU talking about?! That would just increase the number of victims by one! Leave it to me and stay here quietly, got it?!” Rukia yelled back.  
  
She turned away to open the door to Ichigo’s room, and then was blown back by an invisible force as it opened. “What… this immense spiritual pressure! Why did I fail to feel this before?”  
  
“Miss Kuchiki.”  
  
Rukia turned to me, subconsciously standing at attention at my flat voice so similar to that of the nobles who review her performance as a peasant-born adopted into their prestigious House.  
  
“Do not worry about us. Go.”  
  
Rukia wasted no more time and ran downstairs. Ichigo grabbed me by my lapels and snarled into my face “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?!”  
  
“Do you remember our talk from earlier, Ichigo? We can help. But we should also not get in her way.” I tapped at his wrists. “You want to save your family? Then let’s go. I’m with you.”  
  
We rushed out of his room to see Karin bloodied on the hallway floor. “Karin!” Ichigo bent down to help his sister.  
  
“G-good. It didn’t come here…” she said, gasping and managing to smile through the pain. “I thought I had to… warn you…”  
  
“What happened?” Ichigo asked.  
  
“It was so sudden… blood just started pouring out of Daddy’s back, and he fell. Yuzu and I were attacked by something huge… “ She coughed, sending spatters of blood onto Ichigo’s gray jacket. “I could… see it a little, but it looked like Yuzu and Daddy couldn’t see it at all.”  
  
Karin fainted. “Karin! Karin!”  
  
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Ichigo-“  
  
“Get off me!” Ichigo reared up to punch me. It caught me by the collarbone and I fell. “You- you, if you didn’t stop me, I could have…”  
  
“Could have  _what_ , Ichigo? I only delayed you by two seconds at most.” The growl resounded again, coming from the outside. “It’s already happened. Don’t blame yourself for what’s already happened.”  
  
Shakily I got up and felt around Karin’s neck. “It’s all right. She’s still alive, just asleep.” I looked at the wound on her back. “I’ll take care of her. You want to fight? Grab a weapon and go – but remember, don’t make someone else give their lives for yours. Get your family away from the fight, and let the pro do her job.”  
  
Ichigo scowled at me, clearly there was more blaming he wanted to say, then nodded. He gave Karin one last worried glance and hurried down to the first floor.  
  
After he left, I carefully arranged Karin to lie down more comfortably slumping against the wall and cast  **[Heal]**. Her wound closed, but she remained unconscious. From my inside jacket pocket I took out an energy drink and began to chug it, in the faint hope it would help recuperate my stamina for casting.  
  
“What are you doing, you idiot!” Rukia screamed from downstairs.  
  
It was my turn to scamper downstairs, to find Rukia standing over a prone Ichigo, who was holding a baseball bat snapped in half. Isshin was bloody and unconscious over against a wall. The living room was just a total mess, and a massive hole was bashed into the wall. Outside, Yuzu floated in mid-air.  
  
I couldn’t see the Hollow either. Fuck.  
  
“Ichigo, she can’t save Yuzu if she has to worry about you!” I shouted.  
  
[The Hollow](https://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/bleach/images/d/d1/Ep1FishboneD.png/revision/latest?cb=20150301144922&path-prefix=en) let out a low rumbling chuckle. “So, little Shinigami. So you want to save this little snack? Then lay down your sword.”  
  
Rukia grit her teeth.  
  
“Oh? Then you don’t care what happens to this one, then?” The Hollow tightened its grip slightly and the girl screamed.  
  
“Help! Help me, Ichi!” Yuzu begged. Shit, did I just turn this thing into a hostage situation? Did I make it worse?  
  
Ichigo screamed and brushed past Rukia. The Hollow laughed.  
  
“No!” she screamed. I ran forward too, but my Speed was too low.  
  
The Hollow brought its massive arm down to smash Ichigo with Yuzu. Fortunately, Rukia was faster. “Hado Number 33! Soukatsui!” The Hollow screamed as it was blasted in its bone-masked face by an explosion of white energy. So did Rukia, blasted in the opposite direction as she still lacked mastery to perform the Kido without the chant.  
  
“Yuzu!” Ichigo yelled, and managed to scramble over in time to catch Yuzu from the surprised monster’s opened hand.  
  
By this time I had reached them out in the street. “Ichigo! What’s happening?”  
  
The dark and deserted street outside was slowly being cratered, walls exploding for no reason. “They’re fighting,” he said. “She… she’s dodging barely in time. Her right arm is burnt, she’s attacking with her left hand.”  
  
There was a pained howl. “She’s cutting into it, but none of it is deep enough.”  
  
Ichigo placed Yuzu to rest at the corner where the clinic wall meets the brick decorative planters outside. He tenderly brushed the hair on her sleeping face, then turned back to the battle. His eyes widened in alarm. “She just bounced off the air!” A brick wall exploded, as the Hollow’s arm caught Rukia’s form and backhanded her out of the air.  
  
“She’s hurt!” Ichigo stood up. “Stay here and guard Yuzu!”  
  
I grabbed at the back of his jacket. “Ichigo.”  
  
“No, damn it! She told me… she told me that Hollows only attack humans when they have high spiritual concentration. The reason my father’s lying over there, and Yuzu, and Karin are covered in blood… all of this is because of me?” Ichigo hissed through grit teeth. “They’re in danger because of me… It’s my fault again…”  
  
“If you’re thinking of doing something stupid like offering yourself to the Hollow to be eaten so that it leaves your family alone…”  
  
By the wince on his face, that was exactly what was on his mind.  
  
“You know there’s no guarantee the Hollow would keep the bargain, right? It would just kill and eat Miss Kuchiki after eating you, and then there’s nothing and no one able to stop it from killing and eating your family.”  
  
“So you just want me to watch?!” he screamed back. “They’re in danger because of me! What do you expect me to do?! What can I do?!”  
  
I opened my hand out. Out of nowhere, a motorcycle helmet fell onto my palms. I put it over my head, while stretching out my legs so wide I could split like a ballet dancer. “Let’s be goddamn heroes.”  
  
“What… what did you just do?! Tanaka, what… what  _are_  you?”  
  
“I do not know this Jin James Tanaka you speak of. I am!” I slapped at the ground and kicked up [in a half-windmill](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Windmill_\(b-boy_move\)) to bring my legs back together, then pointing at the sky with my spine bent back in an arch - “Mysterious Teenage Superhero J!”  
  
“Your face plate is clear. I can see your face.”  
  
“Well of course! It’s dark out, how do you expect me to  _see?_ ”  
  
Ichigo clutched at his hair. “This isn’t a game! This is my family’s live at stake here, don’t you dare-“  
  
I punched him in the face. “Zot.” He barely even felt it, I think.  
  
A coruscating globe of Force formed around him. A  **[Shield of Protection]**.  
  
“What-“  
  
I jabbed a finger at him. “Bait.” Then to the air (a little to the left, Ichigo advised offhand), a little more to the left to point at Rukia. “Trap.”  
  
Ichigo looked down at his clenched fists, then up at my face. For the first time since this started, his expression showed hope instead of a near-suicidal desperation to atone. “What can I… what can we do with this?”  
  
“I can’t see  _anything_  of what’s happening, Ichigo. You can help. You’re stronger, faster, a better fighter than I am in every possible way.” I raised my arms. “Take me to Miss Kuchiki, that way I can help.”  
  
Ichigo roared, grabbed me by the lapels of my jacket, slung me over his shoulder like a sack of rice, and began to run.  
  
”Wait, Ichigo, this isn’t a plan-“  
  
“Hey, you! Ugly! I’m the one you want, right! Over here! Dinner time!”  
  
“Wait, Ichigo, wait, dammit!”  
  
As the Hollow turned and began to walk toward Ichigo, making a delighted little dark chuckle, Ichigo outright threw me at Rukia.  
  
“Fuuuuccckkkeeeerrrr…!” I screamed as I passed under the Hollow’s armpit. Someone catch me! Even with a helmet I will break my neck meeting that brick wall face-first! I have six CON!  
  
Wait, in a frozen moment I realized that souls like Rukia are probably still intangible to someone with my spirit levels. So, hurriedly I - “Zot!”  
  
I bounced off the boundary wall, and then crashed on my back with the wind driven out of me, as I quickly cast and dispelled the  **[Shield of Protection]**. That’s six  _Fatigue_  gone, even for such a short duration. “Oof!”  
  
“You know barrier Kido?!” Rukia gasped.  
  
“Miss Kuchiki, I can’t see you.” I raised my palm up to the air. “Please put your face over this hand.”  
  
“… I do not understand, but so be it.”  
  
I closed my eyes visualized energy coalescing to a point above my palm. I imagined what Rukia could look like, there’s a person there, my eyes are closed, I can’t see her, but she’s there, so –  **[Heal]. [Heal].**  
  
**[Heal]!**  
  
Three straight castings of Minor Healing brought me down to the edge of unconsciousness. I blacked out momentarily.  
  
“Amazing… Healing Kido too…?”  
  
“Aaaaaaaaaaa!” Ichigo was screaming angrily in the distance.  
  
“Could you save that strawberry now, please? Thank you.”  
  
“Worry not, civilian. That Hollow is good as dead.” That fierce edge to Rukia’s voice was just lovely.  
  
I closed my eyes to rest. I’ve done all that I could. If I died in my sleep, then dead was dead. This was all Past-Me expected from me. My only regret would be the grief I would cause my family…  


 

\-------

  
[-1 HP]  
  
[-1 HP]  
  
[-1 HP]  
  
I woke up to Ichigo slapping me in the face.  
  
“You fucker!” I screamed out.  
  
He had the gall to chortle at me. “Hey look, he’s fine.”  
  
Gingerly I tried to sit up straight. “The Hollow-?”  
  
“Dead,” Rukia replied firmly. “So has the barrier around this area. I did not know some Hollows had the ability to do that.”  
  
_That was because it was not a Hollow power. Someone intended you to almost die here, and pass your powers onto Ichigo. It is a conspiracy._  This I could not say.  
  
I could only grin foolishly. “Awesome.”  
  
Ichigo helped me up to my feet. “Your family?” I asked.  
  
Rukia answered, “I too am adept in Healing Kido. They are asleep now, their bodies will recover, and they will remember nothing of what transpired this night.”  
  
“Excellent.”  
  
If there was any doubt I helped in bringing down that Hollow, there could be no mistaking that massive wave of exultation and power suffusing my body. Three levels at once, baby! Oh yeah! Oh yeah! Uh! Uhh!  
  
“How-how vulgar!” Rukia gasped.  
  
I paused in the middle of my pelvic thrusts. “This is how we in the modern world celebrate. Do not disrespect our cultural norms.”  
  
“Oh. My apologies.”  
  
Ichigo down-punched my head. Ow. Where's my helmet?! “He’s just playing you, don’t listen to him.”  
  
“Him? Hmm. Oh. Oh, I see. Interesting. How unique as well.” Rukia’s voice was so warm, I felt like being wrapped in velvet. “I must say this has been a very interesting evening. I did not expect to meet two living souls with such unique qualities – one with such incredible amounts of spiritual energy, and another with an instinctive ability to use chantless low-level Kido.”  
  
Her tone softened. “I regret that I needs must do this then…”  
  
“Miss Kuchiki, if you’re trying to do something like erase our memories about tonight, please allow me to try to disabuse you of that notion…”  
  
She gasped again. “How did you know! How do you know these things?! Are you a spy?! Ack! How dare you!” Ichigo must have bopped her on the head too.  
  
“It’s obvious isn’t it? You just said my family won’t remember what happened.” Indeed, Ichigo’s a lot sharper than he looked.  
  
“We were attacked today because our spirit levels are a lure for Hollows who want to eat us. If you make us forget, how will we be able to protect ourselves when it happens again? You can’t be around to watch over us all the time - you have your job to do all over the place.”  
  
“It is… inappropriate, but I guess I could omit this from my report.” Ichigo bent over as she slugged him in the side. “It would be best if we all never met again, but it would not be… unpleasant.”  
  
“Heh. Yeah. I guess this is goodbye for now, shorty?”  
  
“Cease calling me shorty!”  
  
“Hey wait!” I suddenly called out.  
  
Rukia paused. “What is it?”  
  
“Ichigo, where is she?”  
  
Ichigo pointed down, with his body, shoulder, upper arm, elbow, and forearm forming an open box with ninety-degree angles. She was that short. “Over here.”  
  
I put a Point into the Necromantic Black spell  **[Conjure Spirit]**. I cast it at a cost of 10 energy, with a maintenance cost of three Fatigue every ten seconds. “Oh, I can see you now. Oh wow. You  _are_  cute!”  
  
Rukia blushed and looked away. “For someone like you to say so… I cannot accept that as true...”  
  
“Dear please, because someone like me can say it, of course it would be true. You are surely very cute by my own standards!”  
  
Ichigo groaned. “Not this again…”  
  
I bowed. “It was very nice to properly meet you, Miss Kuchiki. Thank you very much for protecting us and our town from evil spirits.”  
  
She bowed. “Likewise, Sir Tanaka. I commend you both on your bravery.”  
  
Ichigo stood there awkwardly, then bowed as well. “Thank you very much for saving my family!”  
  
“You are very welcome, Ichigo.” Rukia smiled warmly once more, silhouetted against the moon, and leapt. Then she was on top an electric pole. And then she was gone.  
  
Ichigo smiled even after she left. That was the most relaxed, most honest, most beautiful smile to grace his face in years. For a short time, he could put down his regrets. He had lived up to his name, he was a protector, and he had saved his family after the pain he had inflicted upon them by taking away their loving light.  
  
He turned around to inspect the ruins of his house. “Now what are we going to do about this?” he huffed.  
  
“Blame it on terrorists?”  
  
“No.”  
  
I chuckled. Tonight was a pivotal moment for Death and the Strawberry. But tonight, Ichigo did not become a Shinigami. It was… arguably possible for Rukia to beat the Hollow on her own, as long as Ichigo didn’t do something  _fucking suicidal_. It was unlikely to last, for all Aizen had to do was to send stronger and stronger Hollows.  
  
But for one night, this night, that  _smug sunuvabitch’s_  plan had  _fucking_   _failed_.  
  
BWWWOOOONNNNG!  
  
And my soul echoed with the most wonderful sound.  
  
There. The whole reason Past-Me had placed the urge to do this. To test that fate could be defied. And for doing so, I had earned a [[Fate Point](https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/arcanum/images/c/c6/FatePointMenu.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20160402041838)].  
  
Ichigo grabbed me in a headlock as I was trying to tiptoe away. “You’re going to help me clean this up.”  
  
“A Mysterious Teenage Superhero should disappear mysteriously after the incident! Don’t crimp mah theme, bro!”  
  
“Mysterious Teenage Superhero Jay could mysteriously pick up a broom and mysteriously sweep!”

  
  
End Death, Beauty, and The Strawberry  
\--------------------------------------------------------

Updates once or twice a week every Mondays and Wednesdays.


	6. 2.1 Daybreak

  
After having fought for your life against a supernatural monster, how do you go back to normal after that? How do young adult protagonists just deal with the fact that most of what they knew were but a comfortable delusion, that nowhere is truly safe, that adults don't know best, and that there are no laws but that of the strongest?  
  
Ignoring and repressing would not be easy for Ichigo. He’d been able to see ghosts for almost as long as he’d been alive, people used to think him strange because he would be talking to nothing, not realizing until much later that ghosts weren’t existent people to others. He treated ghosts as discrete individuals worthy of respect equal to the living, which was a strange thing indeed. The knowledge of the existence of Shinigami and Hollows, and how he lacked the power to protect his own sisters must surely burn.  
  
It would not be an option for Ichigo because I would constantly be reminding him of his drive to protect others. Physically unimpressive as I might be, at least I had some power useful against the enemy.  
  
Indeed, ignoring it was outright  _impossible_  for Ichigo, because everybody in both sides of the living/dead divide needed him to meatshield while plans went on in the background. His time would come.  
  
This sounded terribly manipulative. Eh, call it friends with benefits. He gets someone to make up a training plan, I get to delay being sliced to ribbons.  
  
He needed get stronger as fast as possible, but for now on his own terms rather than relying on Rukia’s transferred Shinigami powers. “Strawberry…! Wakey wakey…!”  
  
“Mngrfl.”  
  
“Ichigo. Your sisters are here. They’re watching.” My voice became lilting and playful, “if you don’t get up, I’m going to kiss you~.”  
  
Ichigo’s eyes shot open, and he punched at my face. Or would have, if I’d been leaning over him instead of speaking through a long tube. He ended up sitting up straight, with his hips, body, and arm out straight forming another hard-angled open box.  
  
“Hah! That was great!” Karin snickered.  
  
Ichigo blinked. Almost robotically his head turned towards us. Scowled. Blinked again. Then he groaned and palmed his forehead. “Ahh, damn. So you’re really here. So last night…”  
  
I put a finger to my lips. “You were so forceful, Ichigo~”  
  
A pillow bounced off my face. “Nothing of that sort happened!”  
  
“Ichi-nii…” Yuzu mumbled, blushing.  
  
“Something of that sort definitely happened,” Karin remarked, yawning. “Have you seen outside? Jin said you were the one to talk to the ‘authorities’ about it.”  
  
Ichigo looked so terribly conflicted. He had never really been comfortable with lying, preferring omission or the ignoring of questions instead. “… yeees, something like that happened?”  
  
“He decided that it was better to let you have your precious sleep than wake your father up to deal with it. Praise your brother for his rare intelligence, children!”  
  
“Yay, Ichi!” said Yuzu, at the same time Karin made a much more unenthusiastic “Yaaaay.”  
  
Ichigo pointed an angry finger at me again. “What do you mean rare?!”  
  
“Uncommon? Special? Ichigo, please. You need to work on your vocabulary.”  
  
“Somehow I have a feeling that’s not what you meant.” As the girls bundled out downstairs, Ichigo muttered to me passing by the door “If you’re that good at lying to my family, don’t bother coming back here again. People like you shouldn’t be trusted.”  
  
“That hurts. People like me are budding actors or politicians, Ichigo.”  
  
“Yeah. Exactly.” He pointed at his eyes with a v-sign with his fingers, then towards me, the old ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. I shrugged.  
  


~-*-~

  
“Whhhoaaaah!” Isshin overdramatically exclaimed, looking around the ruins of his housefront with almost theatrical glee. “This is amazing. How could we have slept through a truck smashing through our house?”  
  
Karin stood there near the doorway, with her knuckles on her hips and all the disdainful confidence of a drill sergeant. “Yeah, how did we?” she asked. “Yuzu and I, and Dad, we were all so sound asleep. Only Ichi and you were up and awake. What were you doing?” She glanced aside to give me a suspicious glare.  
  
I smiled. “What are you trying to say, Kari-kari?”  
  
“First, never call me that again. Second, did you drug our food?”  
  
“You saw Yuzu and I prepare everything. We all partook from the same pot, so, no.”  
  
“You two could have taken the antidote later!”  
  
“That’s for poison.”  
  
“Tch.” Karin’s movie logic could offer no rebuttal. “So how do you explain this then?” she waved at the scene.  
  
I shrugged. “You girls ate an unusual amount of food, since it was your first time trying such dishes from the South-East. I kinda feel you were doing so only to be polite, but feeling so drowsy after a big meal at your age is perfectly normal. Ichigo and I simply have different metabolisms.”  
  
“Then how do you explain Dad?”  
  
“Goats sleep deeply.”  
  
Karin nodded. “Sounds legit.”   
  
Ichigo came out of the house, ready to go to class. I waved at him. “Hey, strawberry.”  
  
“Jin,” he nodded in acknowledgment. Then to his sister “Shouldn’t you be off to school instead of chatting with this wacko?”  
  
“Ah! Right! Yuzu, where are you?” She found her sister beside her father, imitating his cartoonish way of looking around the debris. That man was far too cheery for someone who had to pay for rebuilding. Fortunately the clinic attached to their family home was untouched. “Yuzu, let’s go!”  
  
I waved bye-bye to the girls. Not as cute my little sis, but a heartwarming sight nonetheless. “You better head out as well, Ichigo.”  
  
“You’re telling me this why now? This isn’t even your house. What about you?”  
  
“Think about it. Do you really want us to arrive at school at the same time?”  
  
Ichigo winced. I would probably say something that implied we slept together (in the same house) or we up all night (putting aside loose debris) just for the trolls. Worse, if I arrived earlier, I would be able to feed the rumor mill with whatever I wanted without a chance for him to counter anything. Leaving him only one option -  
  
“I would have to destroy you,” he summed up the scenario.  
  
I bobbed my head up and down. “Thank me for being a considerate friend, Ichigo.”  
  
He turned away. “Yeah, whatever.”  
  
Karakura High was practically all the way across town. Ichigo needed to wake up absurdly early to walk there instead of just cycling to it. I suppose that sort of discipline and daily exercise helped explain his endurance.  
  


-*-  


As Ichigo went off to school, I approached Isshin. “Doctor Kurosaki.”  
  
The older man looked quizzically down at me. “And shouldn’t you be off to class too?”  
  
“Do you really remember nothing of what happened last night?”  
  
He laughed loudly. “Nope. Not a thing! What a waste, it would have been interesting to see that truck. That damn driver, who pulls a hit and run on a house?! I’d have given him a piece of my mind! Or my fist!”  
  
“Suu desu nyaa~? Is that so?” I tilted my head to the side.  
  
“Hahaha why would I lie to you? What, were you two up to something... naughty… last night?” His face suddenly froze into a forbidding mask. ”Do not tell me anything about that.”  
  
I let a few seconds of silence pass, looking around at the wreckage and the pits on the road. “Trucks sure are dangerous aren’t they? We don’t consider them any special anymore, but at any moment, any one of them could plow into a whole row of pedestrians or crush smaller cars on the road. So familiar they are to us as transports for our necessary goods, that we forget that they can be multi-ton murder machines at the hands of driver having a bad day.”  
  
Isshin nodded and grunted approvingly. “I guess so. I guess it’s good that no one was hurt last night.”  
  
“Feeling relief at avoiding an accident is good, but what has happened once can happen again. Terrorists don’t even need guns and chemicals to cause mass deaths and panic. There’s no way to protect ourselves, the river of commerce must flow uninterrupted. The cycle must be maintained. No, the lives of civilians are just the lubricant for that great machine that is modern society.  
  
"Isn’t that scary? What is familiar can be so terrifying so suddenly… truly, no one is truly safe anymore...“  
  
Isshin looked at me oddly, and rubbed at his chin. “Can’t say I ever thought of it that way before. You’re right. That  _is_  scary.” In a lower voice “Scarier that you little bugger can think of it in the first place…”  
  
My reply came as a sad whisper. “But you know what’s even scarier? Things that can kill you that you can’t even see.”  
  
I looked up to see Isshin’s expression had gone impassive and unyielding as a stone statue.  
  
We stared at each other for a small battle of wills. I broke first. I looked away and continued “It’s weird, isn’t it? We accept that ghosts do exist, but aren’t there old legends and rituals going back to the dawn of man about the dangers of ghosts? They cause bad luck. Curses. Can  _possess people_.”  
  
“Ghosts are also known for being insubstantial.” Isshin gestured towards the massive hole in his house. “If you’re saying a ghost could do this, I’d believe a truck instead. Or do you mean to say that you think a ghost possessed that truck driver?”  
  
“Mm. Hmm. So if I say the words ‘Shinigami’ and ‘Hollow’, they would mean nothing to you?”  
  
Isshin didn’t even hesitate a beat. “Nope! Not a thing!” he said again, his expression widening out into a foolish grin.  
  
“Doctor Kurosaki, I firmly believe that it is a parent’s happiness to protect their children. It will not do you a good turn to leave you helpless in happy ignorance.”  
  
Isshin turned his front to me and asked “What are you trying to say?” I became keenly aware of his large powerful physique, and hands that could pop my head off my shoulders like a grape.  
  
“I’m saying that any risk to the lives of your daughters is no time to be playing coy. Ichigo and I can protect ourselves. You can’t watch over them all the time to and from school.”  
  
“That sounds almost like a threat.”  
  
I shook my head. “Whether you consider me crazy for saying this, your daughters are part of the supernatural phenomena surrounding Ichigo. Lightning can, and often does, strike twice. Are there no precautions you can take against unfriendly ghosts?”  
  
“Tch!” Isshin sucked in his breath. “Why are you telling me this? What do you expect me to do?”  
  
“Well you  _are_  an adult. And a doctor. I’m not a very smart person, I’m not really much good with plans.” That was Past-Me’s thing. I never really considered more than two or three days into the future, it was pointless with two supergeniuses playing speed chess in the background. “You, presumably have access to libraries, journals and scientific literature. I can’t afford those fees for researching rituals and wards against spiritual entities.”  
  
Isshin blinked. He blinked again. He looked at his watch. Then back to me, boggling. “Are you actually assigning me  ** _homework?_** ”  
  
I put a finger to my lips and giggled. “Why, it appears yes, yes I am!”  
  
Isshin brushed at his beard and scratched at his hair and groaned. “What a pain in the ass! I don’t know if you’ve got guts or you’re just an impudent brat.” He shooed me away. “No, what you are, is  _late_. Get outa here, kid, shoo!”  
  
“Very well then. I leave it to your capable hands, sir.”  
  
“Cut the sarcasm.”  
  
“Is not sarcasm. Honest praise, sir.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m not sure I believe  _that_  either.”  
  
I glanced at my watch. Oh gosh, I  _am_  late. I bowed respectfully and I left Isshin standing there, with his one hand on his hips and the other still scratching at his hair, sighing exasperatedly while staring at the damage to his house.

  
~-*-~

The day after the Hollow attack passed without event. It was quite a letdown, to be honest. Rukia didn’t appear to join our class. Ichigo arrived just in time, overtaking the rumor that his house had suffered a strange truck attack.  
  
“Jin! You are over two hours late!” [Misato Ochi](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Misato_Ochi) reprimanded me as I entered. “This is inexcusable.”  
  
“Madam, I agree! I have no excuse, I will accept whatever punishment you see fit.”  
  
She shrugged. “Eh. At least you got to school eventually, so take a seat.”  
  
“Ma’am, you are being entirely too permissive!” I complained with a pout. “Can’t I do the thing where I have to stand outside holding buckets of water?” I really ought to start building my Strength and Endurance.  
  
She snorted. “What manga have you been reading? Sit your Showa punk ass down and contemporize!”  
  
I nodded and obeyed. Truly, Ochi-sensei, you are an inspiration to us all! If you can get employed with your laid-back ways in  _this_  economy, surely there is still hope for us upcoming millennials.

  
~-*-~  


Ichigo looked taken aback, fearing I would take the opportunity to troll him some more. “I suppose you are being considerate…” he mentioned before the end of the day. “Thanks.”  
  
“Lightning strikes the same place more than twice. Be more careful from now on, strawberry.”

~-*-~

And that night, at my home, it was time for another important family meeting.  
  
“Ma, Pa, I have decided…” The family sat all around the round dinner table, and waited patiently for my dramatic moment to pass. “I have decided to become… a superhero.”  
  
Mom and Dad grabbed at each other and began to weep. “Oh I knew this would happen someday!” Mom cried out.  
  
“You will have our support no matter what you do, son!” Dad gurgled through a dripping nose, grossly overcome with emotion.  
  
“Wait, wait, hold on a moment. Did you just hear what I just said?”  
  
“I knew he would come out of the closet one day,“ bawled my mother, “I didn’t expect it would be with [Joel Schumacher’s nippled batsuit](http://www.denofgeek.com/movies/batman-forever/36220/why-batman-forevers-batsuit-had-nipples)!”  
  
“I [somewhat did](http://s3-us-west-1.amazonaws.com/dkn-wp/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/24041120/5.jpg), though,” my father revealed. “But he’ll have to settle [for a Batman bike](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/a6/18/05/a618059db5ead8981ebaf2cfa69114e6.jpg), I’m not letting him repaint the family car…!”  
  
Yes, [maybe some sort of stealth electric bike](http://batmanfactor.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/stealthside.jpg) since no way I hell am I going to waste my Fatigue just pedaling wait what the hell-  
  
“It doesn’t matter, neechan,” Miyako explained. “We have all been preparing for the day you would decide to dedicate your life to something outlandish.”  
  
“… I’m not talking about taking the lead in a sentai show or something, you know? I mean, a real superhero, in the whole punch evildoers in the face sort of thing. Sneak out at night to fight supernatural monsters and all that.”  
  
Miyako nodded and gave me a thumbs up. “I believe in you, neechan.”  
  
I began to rub at my eyes as well. My heart grew three sizes that day. “This family’s support has left me so whelmed! I love you all!”  
  
“But seriously, neechan,” Miyako continued. “I recommend body armor and pepper balls.” All of thirteen years old, but her gaze only held a cool, calculating acceptance.  
  
She nodded several times and continued: “I have decided long ago that someday I might need to rescue you from kidnappers. My dream is to become a policewoman! You deciding to become a superhero fits my life goal just fine!” Miyako lifted her other hand in a thumbs-up. She began to bob her thumbs up and down like cheerleading pom-poms.  
  
“Miyako, what manga have you been reading?” I asked, aghast.  
  
“Sailor V!”  
  


-*-


	7. 2.2 Substitution

  
The next day, Ichigo Kurosaki arrived all gangsta. “This is all your fault!” he shouted at me.  
  
He wore on his neck a thick chain necklace made of holy symbols from several religions. On his arms, there were wristbands stitched with alternating pentacles and ying-yang symbols. His hair smelled of olive oil, his bag smelled of garlic.  
  
“Prrfft!” Trying to keep my laughter in meant spit came down the wrong tube and I began coughing for breath. I started pounding on the desk and Tatsuki began slapping at my back because that’s how you clear a blockage, right?  
  
[-1 HP]  
  
[-1 HP]  
  
“Tatsuki, I’m okay now please stop.”  
  
[-1 HP]  
  
“What did you tell my father?!” Ichigo continued. “He loaded me up with every evil spirit repellent he could think of!” He lifted his gray school jacket to show his belt. “I have tactical salt dispensers! Salt!”  
  
“…I am more curious what he could have possibly told you to get you to wear all of that to school. Ichigo, you look ridiculous.” Murmurs in agreement rose up from behind me.  
  
“Ichigo… so cool!” Orihime almost had literal stars in her eyes.  
  
“Something about terrorist ghost truck drivers, I wasn’t really paying attention. Haah-” he slumped into his seat, put his feet up to his desk, and groaned. I couldn’t help but notice the soles of his shoes had crosses drawn on them. There was a sinister glint from somewhere near the windows, a flash of early morning light that one might mistake for a Quincy seeing his fashion patent besmirched.  
  
Ichigo huffed helplessly. “All of this is supposed to cleanse my aura and repel bad luck or something. I have to wear it or Yuzu won’t feed me.” His eyes narrowed up at me. “You  _know_  why I can’t  _not_  wear Anti-Evil Spirit gear.”  
  
I made jazz hands. “Sounds legit!”  
  
“All right, settle down! Everybody shut up, get to your seats!” Our teacher yelled. Ochi-sensei paused to stare at Ichigo for a moment to say “Ichigo, you look retarded” and then to the rest of the class, “All right, you immoral little monsters, we have a new transfer today. Smile, smile! Make sure to be nice to her!”  
  
She waved towards the door. “Please introduce yourself to the class, miss.”  
  
Rukia entered, her hair framing a face almost as perfect as a porcelain doll. She smiled brightly at the class and made a small curtsy. ”Good day to you, I am Kuchicki Rukia. I am very,  _very_  pleased to meet you all. Please take care of me.”  
  
“Oooh!” Murmurs of aesthetic appreciation rose from the class.  
  
“AAAAAH!” Ichigo screamed and pointed.  
  
I rested my chin on my interlaced fingers in something that resembled the classic Gendo pose. “Huh. I didn’t know your girlfriend would decide to chase you all the way to this school, Ichigo.”  
  
“Aaaah?” Orihime yelped.  
  
I was more concerned with observing the interesting interplay on Chizuru’s posture. First, she sat up in her seat in obvious interest. Her head tilted as she tried to take in Rukia’s cherubic features, then her gaze drifted down to the newcomer’s chest, and then, finally, she leaned to the side as an indication of lost interest.  
  
She looked away, and our eyes met, an electric thrill of understanding passed between us, and she turned away huffing again.  
  
Heehee~!

  
~x~  


  
During the break, Rukia was mobbed by other students asking about her background, her likes amd dislikes, and what common interests they might share. Of course, the grilling by students could not compare with the pressure of her academy days; from jealous other Shinigami students, even servants of the Kuchiki family holding her to an impossible standard, and always her superiors always looking for anything that could be used against an upstart commoner... but even her beatific smile was starting to strain.  
  
Before she could run all out of ready responses, I forced my way into the circle. Boys and girls yelped and leaped away from me as I jabbed them in their ticklish sides. Maaaagic fingers.  
  
Rukia looked up at me with a bland, calculating gaze. I smiled thinly.  
  
“Miss Kuchiki, may I speak with you for a moment?”  
  
“Certainly, Sir Tanaka!” Rukia stood up and smiled at the others. “Please excuse me.”  
  
“Dammit, Jin, are you staking a claim so quickly?!” One of the boys growled out.  
  
“Well of course, did anyone really expect him to be serious about Chizuru? Going after the one person that constantly rejects him is so stupid it’s got to be a joke.”  
  
Passing by I extended a prim finger to the girl who had just spoken. “Don’t be dissing my childhood-neighbor-best-friend, bebeh,” I said offhand. “If her inclinations weren’t so clear, First Girl would have won.”  
  
“… Dang it.”

  
~x~  


  
Rukia followed close at my heels as I left the room. I lead ahead in silence up several stairs as we eventually made our way to the roof. Waiting there, leaning on the wire fencing all around the rooftop, was Ichigo.  
  
He waved nonchalantly.  
  
I bowed and stepped aside to reveal Rukia behind me. “El Capitano Ichigo, I present to you, Kuchiki Rukia of House Kuchiki.”  
  
“Ichigo. You smell foul!” was Rukia’s opening remark.  
  
Ichigo’s eyebrow knotted together. “Okay. That’s it. I’m  _not_  going to put with this shit for the rest of the day. I’m going to wash off and change after this.” Then he stared contemplatively at Rukia and remembered the events of two nights back. “But does that mean it’s working?”  
  
“I do not know what you are implying but somehow I am insulted.”  
  
“Ahem.” I coughed into my fist to clear the awkward air. With a high-pitched voice I restarted the conversation, “Why, Miss Kuchiki, how unexpected, yet such a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon!”  
  
“It is the same on my account, Sir Tanaka. A pleasure,” she curtsied again. Then with a noncommittal nod, “And Ichigo.”  
  
“Would you care you explain how you are suddenly so… how do I put this…” I lightly brushed at the long single-pointed hair bang that crossed her face. “Existent?”  
  
Rukia gestured to herself, sweeping a hand from her neck to the hem of her skirts. “This is a  _gigai_ , an artificial body we Shinigami use if we need to interact with the material world.”  
  
“I see. And because you are wearing our school uniform, I presume you are here to attend classes. I have a feeling you’re going to do that not with the magic of paperwork… but gratuitous amounts of hypnotic-suggestion shenanigans?”  
  
“You would be correct, Sir Tanaka.” She brought out a device shaped roughly like a candy dispenser. “This  _Kiokuchikan_ , a Memory Substitution Device, will knock people out and leave them with the relevant memories of what happened based on what they are willing to believe.” She held it up to my face, in one small motion she could erase all my memories of that night.  
  
I only smiled. Her eyes narrowed. After a few more moments she put it away.  
  
Ichigo abruptly added, “Wait, so you’ve been brainwashing teachers? That sounds… I dunno, immoral? Illegal? You’re taking advantage of their weakness?”  
  
“We Shinigami are forbidden to interfere with mortals, but sometimes exceptions must be made in the course of our duties. Surely you can see how having a memory they can live with is a much more pleasant fate than the terror of knowing about Hollows?”  
  
“Then why keep it a secret? If people don’t know, how can they protect themselves?”  
  
“They cannot. Most living souls cannot see or even interact with Plus and Minus souls. This world they live in, the one that they feel they can understand; it is our duty to protect it! Protecting people also sometimes means allowing them the chance to live happily on their own terms.”  
  
“Which is an admirable ethos, Miss Kuchiki, but this leads me to ask why we are allowed to be exceptions?” I put in. “Our conversation could have convinced you to leave us out of your report to prevent unnecessary entanglements… but enrolling in this school? That’s too overt.”  
  
“Yeah, what do you think you’re doing, pipsqueak?” Ichigo asked.  
  
“Staying in school is eight hours every day that you can’t use for doing your Shinigami duties.”  
  
“That’s way too suspicious. You’re too suspicious!”  
  
Rukia’s steely gaze considered each of us in turn. “You are correct,” she admitted. “I have received orders to… mingle… with the youth of this school, and in particular keep an eye on both of you. Spiritually aware beings that are capable of seeing a Shinigami are a rarity, and it is not the first time that Shinigami have…  _opened dialogue_ … with living auxiliaries. It is better than the alternative.”  
  
“The alternative?” I asked.  
  
“People with sufficient spiritual power eventually erode memory erasure, and then attempt to gain strength and hunt Hollows. They are foolish, and so they die. Worse are those who, upon realizing their special powers, use it to lord over their fellow mortals. We have far more limited avenue to intervene there.” Rukia then held up a hand to forestall my questions. “We are forbidden to discuss anything relating to history and religion and any previous contact with Soul Society.”  
  
I shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”  
  
“So you’re a spy,” said Ichigo.  
  
“A spy would hide their intentions. I am your  _handler_. I am here to protect you both and make sure that you desist from trying to develop your spiritual powers on your own and then do something stupid like trying to fight Hollows.”  
  
I sat on the ground and stretched out, yawning like a cat under the hot sun. “Well, she’s right. That was perfectly what I intended to do.”  
  
“Are you a moron?” Ichigo asked. “Why would you even want to fight those things? You wanna be some sort of hero? Do you think you can protect people?” His lips thinned in frustration. “At least you have some  _powers_ …”  
  
“Sir Tanaka, that is the height of foolishness!” She shook her head sadly. “It is dangerous to get involved with the Shinigami. You should not think that just because that night you survived, you are capable of dealing with Hollows.”  
  
“Oh, trust me, I’m afraid  _all the time_. Last-last night simply told me there’s more in the world to fear. I have no intention whatsoever of interfering with your duties.” I cocked my hips to the side and pointed. “But a world without fear is a world without courage. Practically every culture in the living world agrees - cowardice is unsightly and courage is beautiful.”  
  
“Courage alone is not enough. You must have real power if you want to act. Confidence is one thing, but ignorance about the true scale of power can be fatal – no, not even ignorance, this is arrogance!” Rukia then turned to Ichigo. “And what about you, Sir Kurosaki? Bravery is one thing, but can you distinguish it from foolhardiness?”  
  
“I know that! Dammit, I know… there’s not much I can do. But you can’t expect me to  _like_  it!” he replied hotly. “I can’t just watch… my family… I can’t just do nothing if it’s going to happen again.”  
  
I closed my eyes and basked under the sun. “I can [Heal] and I can [Harm]. But eventually I will be able to do much more than that.” I cracked one eye open. “And Ichigo – you are far more powerful than I’ll ever be.”  
  
“Jin, I tolerate how much you’re such an asshole sometimes, but don’t you dare talk down to me about this.”  
  
“I’m serious. Think about it. You’ve always been able to see ghosts, according to your sisters. You can  _touch_ them. If you can touch them, you can  _hurt_ them. They aren’t intangible to you! You and they follow the same rules of existence!”  
  
Rukia nodded reluctantly. “I must admit this is true. Individuals of high enough spiritual pressure can damage spiritual beings even with mundane items. Hollows can be very strong and durable beyond the physical limits, but spiritual power imbued into a weapon can harm them.”  
  
Something occurred to me. “Hey, are the three [Imperial Treasures](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imperial_Regalia_of_Japan) things like that?” The sword, the shield, and the magatama; these were the three items of the Imperial Regalia from which the Emperors of Japan derived their legitimacy.  
  
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”  
  
Ichigo scratched frustratedly at his hair. “So, what, you’re just going to hang around us to make sure we’re not training to fight Hollows? Then why not just erase our memories and get the hassle over with?”  
  
I laughed lightly. “Because they can’t, weren’t you listening? People of sufficient spirit power aren’t problems that can be solved that easily. If we die, we would make excellent Shinigami. So we must either be made allies so that they can track where we go when we die, or we must be eliminated before we become too dangerous to those around us.”  
  
Ichigo silently focused his attention on Rukia, staring at her from the corner of his eyes.  
  
“Do not be too full of yourself, Sir Tanaka!” Rukia snorted. “You do not comprehend the sheer power of the Shinigami.”  
  
I raised a hand as if to grasp the sky, so infinitely high and crystal-clear. “As living souls, we’ll never be strong enough to make a duty of hunting Hollows, is that it?” I clenched my hand into a fist. “But if we are attacked, we are allowed to try to survive until you can come and rescue us, is that right?”  
  
Rukia nodded firmly. “It is too late at this point to try and convince you to live normally and do nothing. Normal humans can blithely walk by, not knowing a Plus is being eaten by a Hollow. If you attempt to intervene with what is in front of you, you may be breaking the laws of both the living and the dead. It is foolishness!”  
  
She rapped Ichigo’s arm with her knuckles, and smiled. “So if I must train you somewhat, then I will train you.”  
  
Ichigo’s face slowly brightened. “…you serious?”  
  
Rukia laughed. “Of course! Yes! Indeed! Bwahaha it will be glorious!” She turned around, put her hands on her hips, and began to cackle. “Glorious! There are many things a Whole soul will never be able to accomplish, but we will find out how much of that is possible! What I have learned, I will pass on!"  
  
Ichigo frowned deeply, but if this was the price of gaining the power to protect his family, he could deal with this madness.  
  
I closed my eyes and sighed with relief. Of course, exulting in the responsibility being given to her, and having trainees to torture instruct, and have them obey her every command… this was her chance to prove herself! As an adopted daughter of the noble Kuchiki house, never must she falter and place shame upon their name. It is said the great proof of one's learning is in being able to teach it!  
  
Never did the question arise in her mind why it needed to be her instead of an older, more experienced Shinigami.  
  
Another question: Why train these two uppity teenagers instead of sending a second Shinigami to deal with any increase in Hollow incursions? In fact, why not send someone who knows how to sever the spiritual meridians with a stab of his Zanpakto to destroy all spiritual power? Byakuya Kuchiki was certainly skilled enough to do this.  
  
Shinigami don’t interfere; until they do; and it is the exception that proves the rule, right?  
  
Ah well. Better to enjoy these slices of life of blissful innocence before the inevitable swords and claws arrive to slice us up.  
  
"Glorious!"  
  



	8. 2.3 Sufficiency

  
Three days had passed and the hole in the Kurosaki household was still only boarded up with long wooden planks. It looked terribly cold and unsafe. Because of this, the family had to use the clinic entrance to leave their home.  
  
Ichigo emerged, walked around the corner to stare at it and grumbled about his father. “At least put a tarp over it, you cheapskate!”  
  
A series of honking noises drew his attention. He turned to see a certain classmate waiting outside, posing with one foot on a bike. I winked and pointed at Ichigo. “Hey, bebeh. Wanna ride?”  
  
“… Jin. What are you doing?”  
  
“I’m here to pick you up, Ichigo!” I replied. Ichigo immediately palmed his face in response.  
  
And from behind my back stepped out Rukia. With her arms crossed over her chest and her feet spaced apart, she spoke with the clipped tones of a drill instructor: “Ichigo! Demonstrate to me use of this contraption!”  
  
“… it’s a bike. Don’t you have bicycles in the afterlife?” His brows furrowed. “No, wait-” and in a much less sarcastic voice he asked “Don’t you have bicycles in the afterlife?”  
  
In that same haughty tone, she declared “It is a mystery!”  
  
Ichigo then turned to me. I had the same uniform as ever, gray but crisply ironed, and a little tighter than the usual to make interesting creases around my form. He noticed that I was not sweating bullets, the very reason Ioathed physical activity. “Don’t you live closer to the school? I can’t believe you’d actually wake up early just to pedal all the way here so early for something that’s never been a problem for me to walk.”  
  
“Of course not! I had my father drive me and my bike over here and drop me off.” I slapped at the seat of my new bicycle. “Seriously, you need to sit over here so that I can get behind you and we can ride to school because I don’t have any idea how to ride a bike. My Dexterity is shite.”  
  
That, he could believe. “Man, you’re spoiled.”  
  
“I agree,” Rukia turned to squint up at me. “Are you not ashamed, Sir Tanaka?”  
  
I only shrugged. It would have been better if my family was rich, but I was basically their meal ticket anyway. If Orihime’s dream was to become a battle robot with boob missile launchers, mine was to go to Hollywood and shortly thereafter become a millionaire. Heck, I wouldn’t even have a hard time looking for a job, being multilingual and easy to look at makes me a pretty effective translator.  
  
“If I were to arrive at school all tired and sweaty, that would not be good for my learning capacity. Elegance is its own reward, Miss Kuchiki.”  
  
Rukia thought briefly to her elder brother-in-law and the head of Clan Kuchiki. He was the very picture of refinement, both on and off the battlefield. “I will grant you this, but the highest excellence is to perform actions with seemingly no effort. This can only be achieved through practice.”  
  
“Indeed, we must do this gradually, which is why I’m having Ichigo do this. One must learn to walk before trying to run, while those who can already walk _should_ run.” I pointed to the saddle. “Ichigo! Get on the goddamn bike, Ichigo!”  
  
“Why should I?”  
  
“Training is its own reward!” Rukia goaded.  
  
Ichigo grimaced. Rukia withdrawing her training was actually a pretty effective threat. Unlike if he’d been given Shinigami powers and given no choice but to act, here with no actual powers than what he’d need to work to develop… the idea that he could be told “just walk away, Ichigo” meant that he never would.  
  
With only minor grumbles of dissent, Ichigo sat on the mountain bike. “Wait, then what about-?”  
  
I sat on the back baggage rack over the rear wheel. And then Rukia climbed onto my back with her feet on the footrests protruding off the frame around the back wheel’s gears. Ichigo now had to use force to keep the bike upright.  
  
Karin and Yuzu exited their house to see us forming a human pyramid off a single bicycle. “[Tu-turtles](http://www.atlanticcoralenterprise.com/ProductCart/pc/catalog/3stackturtleaa_2280_detail.jpg)!” Yuzu squeaked.  
  
“Let us go!” Rukia hurriedly commanded.  
  
“Aye, captain! Commencing primary ignition!” I twisted Ichigo’s right ear.  
  
“Yowtch! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  
  
I reached up and twisted his left ear. “Engines at half speed. Go! Go!”  
  
“I will throw you both, I swear!”  
  
“Engine seems stalled. Might not be properly lubricated. I will start licking-“  
  
“Shit, fine!” Ichigo pushed off the road and began to pedal furiously.  
  
Soon after, as we rounded the bend “We are losing balance!” I announced.  
  
“Superstructure support clamps engaged!” Rukia responded, wrapping her arms around my head to clutch at the jacket under Ichigo’s armpits.  
  
Thus secured, I extended my arms out to either side. “Deploying gravity correction fins!”  
  
Karin and Yuzu watched us go.  
  
“How childish,” Karin muttered.  
  
“Seems like they’re having fun. Good for Ichi-nii, having such friends!” Yuzu mused. “It’s only your real friends you’re not afraid to look ridiculous for.”  
  
“They’re looking ridiculous to everybody, you know?”  
  
Yuzu smiled. “I think Ichi-nii could stand to be a lot friendlier to more people!”  
  
“Harsh.”  
  
  


-x-

  
  
As we neared the fourth intersection, I said “Turn left here, Ichigo.”  
  
“Command to Navigation, this is not the way to school, over,” Rukia commented.  
  
“Navigation to Command, there are secondary objectives that require verification, over.”  
  
“You know what, I don’t even care anymore...” Ichigo groused.  
  
It was the way towards the neighborhood where Tatsuki and Orihime lived. And how luckily, they were just then walking towards school.  
  
“All stop! All stop!” I shouted.  
  
Ichigo braked right in front of the two girls, and one foot slapped hard onto concrete. Ichigo grimaced as he had to bear everyone’s weight to keep us all from falling over. Rukia compensated by leaning to the opposite side, still perfectly balanced with her arms crossed over her chest.  
  
Orihime blushed and brightly greeted Ichigo, “G-good morning, Kurosaki-kun!” but while trying to wave forgot that she had her arm in a cast.  
  
Ichigo, bless his dense little heart, noticed and asked “Inoue? Are you in pain? What happened to you?”  
  
Just as brightly as before, she replied “Oh, it’s fine. I just got hit by a car a little, that’s all…!”  
  
“Like hell is being hit by a car a little thing! You shouldn’t be laughing at that, you should be pissed!” He turned towards Tatsuki. “If she’s not feeling well, she shouldn’t have to go to school.”  
  
Tatsuki gave him a look that said _‘Of course she’s going to want to go school, that’s where you’ll be. Dumbass.'_ It just completely slid off. “That’s what I said.”  
  
“I’m okay. It’s not like they tried to hit me on purpose…” Orihime added with unfaked cheer. “I zone out a lot, so …”  
  
“Who is this?” Rukia bent her head down and asked me.  
  
“She’s Orihime Inoue. A classmate of ours, remember?”  
  
“I see.” Rukia leaned to show herself from behind Ichigo’s back “Good morning, goodclassmaters!”  
  
I leaned to expose myself from the opposite side. “Good morning, Princess!”  
  
“Oh! Um, good morning, Jeyu! And… um…?”  
  
“Kuchiki Rukia. Please to make your acquaintance. Again.”  
  
“Pleased to meet you too…!” Orihime replied in the same genteel tone of voice. “Um, again.”  
  
Ichigo turned his head. “Okay. You two useless weights! Get off.”  
  
We dismounted and Ichigo moved the bike closer to the two girls. Rukia pulled me aside and whispered, “Did you plan this?”  
  
“Honestly, no. I was just going to make Ichigo waste time going the long way around. We’re still very early. I wanted to get a feel for how fast we can get around town.” I hadn’t expected her accident to happen during a school day. Past-Me implied that it happened before a weekend during which Rukia and Ichigo would train in a park somewhere. Since Ichigo did not notice it at school, it must have happened Friday or Saturday night. This was a Friday.  
  
I didn't recall doing anything to butterfly things, but then again I had known Tatsuki and Orihime for a long time now. Foolish of me to forget that.  
  
“Mmm. I am not quite sure I believe you.” Rukia glanced aside towards Orihime for a moment.  
  
She was being interrogated by Ichigo, who looked more angry than concerned, but that was just the way his face worked. She was just all-out delighted at his attention, and a part of me worried she would go out to ram herself onto more cars for kicks. Tatsuki looked back towards the two of us, some distance away with our backs to the group.  
  
I believed she was just [jealous of our technique](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-8gsWZqDBM). Even though Rukia had to squat with her knees together for modesty, her heels were flat to the ground and she had perfect balance. We were excellent gopnik.  
  
“Are they close?” Rukia inquired again in a conspiring whisper.  
  
“Somewhat, she is best friends with Tatsuki since eighth grade, who is a friend to both Ichigo and me since our childhood.” My voice then grew somber. “Ichigo feels obliged to help her, I think – her older brother died three years ago. He was hit by a hit-and-run driver, and it was Ichigo who opened to door to Orihime dragging his wounded body to their clinic. Orihime’s brother died there in his father’s clinic, his injuries were just too severe. It was not the best of ways to meet, but maybe that’s why Orihime has a vision of Ichigo being so kind and a gentleman even through all the fighting he does around school. Not that I’m saying Ichigo isn’t kind – he just isn’t very _gentle_.”  
  
“Three years ago, you say?” Rukia made another noncommittal noise and then asked “Did you notice that mark on her leg?”  
  
“That purplish stain? I’m guessing that’s not normal bruising.”  
  
“Could you heal it?”  
  
“Easily. But it would be too obvious.”  
  
“It would not. Notice how her best friend has not seen fit to worry about it.”  
  
“Hollow attack?” I whispered back.  
  
“Possibly. I will be monitoring the situation, worry not.”  
  
I turned around to see Ichigo offering to give Orihime a ride to school. Nyohoho. Good Ichigo. He was a very kind person if the situation was right in front of him. He certainly noticed the painful-looking mark on Orihime’s leg and decided no way should she have to walk to school in that condition.  
  
His very independent mindset just lead him to believe that other people might not appreciate being helped and implied they can’t take care of themselves. He couldn’t help but to worry about Orihime, but she was always so cheery and put up a cutely brave face. She lived by herself, her living expenses supported only by money sent by distant relatives. In many ways she was even more strongly independent than Ichigo.  
  
I blamed Tatsuki for this, really. Ichigo really had only so few female figures to use as a benchmark for expected feminine behavior.  
  
Rukia spoke up, “Very good, Ichigo! A gentleman should never allow a lady to suffer any painful inconvenience.”  
  
“Then you should ride along with them, Miss Kuchiki.”  
  
“Eh?”  
  
I gestured towards the bike. “You can see Miss Inoue had best ride side-saddle since one of her arms can’t grip-” and incidentally have her be held inside Ichigo’s arms in an almost-hug, Orihime could just die with embarrassment and happiness “but even so you can still ride behind Ichigo. You are a prim and proper young woman, right? I should not allow you to sweat unnecessarily either.”  
  
Rukia frowned minutely, then nodded. That was her cover story, after all. She was a frail, proper young woman, with inexplicable fainting spells should she need to hurry off after a Hollow. None of us dared to glance towards Tatsuki, thus implying she was a lady to be pampered and protected. She gave a satisfied grunt.  
  
Tatsuki and I watched three people head off again on one bike, precariously balanced but at least a less embarrassing arrangement.  
  
Tatsuki pulled me by the back of my collar and asked roughly “All right, what your game, Tanaka? I don’t appreciate you playing around with my friend’s feelings!”  
  
“Why, Arisawa, I am always serious about this! Shipping is serious business. Besides, Ichigo’s our friend too!” I sighed and bobbed my head towards the direction of the school. “He’s certainly gone far from that little crybaby we knew…”  
  
“Then what’s with Kuchiki? You've been spreading the rumor that she’s Ichigo’s secret girlfriend.”  
  
“Well, she… is? How many girl friends does Ichigo have that aren’t you or (arguably) me? He’s not even really friends with Orihime… there’s a distance there that she’s still too timid to cross and he’s too ignorant of teenage norms to even notice.”  
  
“So what’s the truth about when you met Kuchiki?”  
  
“A couple of days ago, by chance. She saved his life. It’s too embarrassing, Ichigo will probably never say it and I don’t want to lose any teeth. Orihime needs to take initiative too. Rukia won’t be staying long, but Orihime could use a safe outlet to develop her own confidence as a woman.”  
  
“Tch. Why is it that when you do it, I feel guilty about trying to pressure Orihime to do the same thing?" She let me go. "Kuchiki’s nice enough, I guess… but what do you get out of this?”  
  
“That super awkwardness is its own reward! Watching them try to deal with their teenage feelings would be adorbs and hilarious in equal measure. We should all attempt to enjoy our high school years to the utmost, for this is a time that will never come again.” I stretched out my arms and faced Tatsuki squarely. “This is our time. Our precious time! The bonds we make during these years shall be the ones most fondly remembered throughout our lives!”  
  
She scrunched her nose. “You sound like an old man. That’s disgusting.”  
  
I ran a hand through my silky blue hair. “Baby, I appreciate you too. One day I’m going to ask you to marry me.”  
  
Tatsuki bopped me on the head.  
  
“I notice you’re not exactly saying no,” I said.  
  
“Well you’re not exactly asking, are you?” she replied, with nothing but pure indifference in her voice.  
  
  


-x-

  
But there were more people I needed to accost through the day.  
  
As the class milled around during break, I padded over to Uryuu Ishida, slapped my palms on his desk and loudly announced “Uryuu! Give me your body!”  
  
The young Quincy merely pushed up his glasses and gave me a glare. No one else reacted. We have all only known each other for the few months since the school year started, but they were all already well desensitized to my shite.  
  
“Specifically, your fabulously inventive brain and your astoundingly dexterous fingers!”  
  
“What sort of costume do you want _this time_ , Tanaka?” he asked blandly. Uryuu had very feminine features, with almond eyes and silken straight hair framing a face that was spoiled from true androgyny only by a slightly too pointed masculine chin. His whole demeanor, however, held no such softness. “I retain first refusal on anything too impractical. Some designs can and simply do look absurd in reality. You are not an anime character.”  
  
“Bebeh, this body is _made_ for cosplay! But I was thinking something more practical, more like a mixture of Showa-era Kamen Rider but with hints of a formal tuxedo. Those insectoid chest plates seem surprisingly more suitable for armor inserts than the sheer material of Super Sentai.”  
  
Since his flat expression didn’t change, I took that as tacit consent. “All black like BLACK, but with silver bands here” I drew a line over my wrists “and open semi-jacket here” I traced a line from collarbone to under my armpits midwaist. Then I slapped at my shoulders. “Padding here, with a hard outer layer. Jacket also semi-rigid, reminiscent of the fitted pauldron and gardbrace of gothic plate armor.”  
  
Basically, [20th Century Boy](http://jojo.wikia.com/wiki/20th_Century_Boy).  
  
“You don’t have the build for that, Tanaka.”  
  
“You don’t have the build for that either, Ishida. But I will dare to wear it!”  
  
“Such pitiful reverse psychology.”  
  
“But do you dare to stitch something that will fit and will actually be usable in _battle?_ ” And then the sweetener “Double the usual rate, materials will be provided of course.”  
  
He gave a disdainful sniff. “No, I will choose the materials. Anything less would be an insult to the craft.”  
  
“I want actual armor panels, Ishida.”  
  
He narrowed his already thin eyes in suspicion. His eyes were blue, the only hints to the oddly Germanic heritage of the Quincy, the only mortals who had the ability to fight Hollow or even Shinigami on their own terms, an inheritable bloodline power. “Even that isn’t beyond my abilities.”  
  
He glanced aside, but Rukia and Ichigo were out of the classroom. Rukia’s gigai disguised her Shinigami nature, but surely he was aware of Hollows. “What do you intend to do with the costume? Are you actually _that much_ of _an idiot_ to go fight in it?”  
  
“I am perfectly _that idiot_ , yes.”  
  
Uryuu touched his glasses again, and then went on to rub the bridge of his nose. “If I say no?”  
  
“The feth do you think? If I can’t have quality, then I’ll have to settle for speed and buy off the shelf.”  
  
Uryuu absently drummed his fingers on his desk. Then he said, “No, I have better things to do with my time than to entertain your blatant stupidities. Go get yourself killed if that’s what you want. I refuse to be held responsible for your own idiotic decisions.”  
  
I nodded. “Fair. That’s fine too.” I stepped back from his desk. His eyes widened a fraction, clearly not expecting me to call his bluff.  
  
But he had his pride, and his stubbornness, and so if that was my choice, then he refused to chase after me.  
  
  


-x-

  
Ichigo brought back a bucket full of baseballs. He groaned and sat on the bench. It was not a school day, we were at one of the local parks. Some distance away was a pitching machine that Rukia had commandeered from somewhere. “I’ve been watching you two… you seem to be having much more fun with this, is this even training?!”  
  
Rukia was sitting on the table with her feet on a bench, reading from a stack of detective mystery manga. I was having brunch. Bebeh, as an ectomorph, this beautiful body will _never_ get fat!  
  
He jabbed a finger at my forehead, causing my head to recoil like a spring off my neck. “Your endurance is shit! Total shiiit! But she’s not having you run around or do any push-ups or anything!“  
  
Then to Rukia “What’s the point of me just practicing hitting baseballs? I can do this all day.”  
  
“Have you just been hitting all the balls? You fool! I told you to only hit the ones with the face on them!”  
  
Ichigo held out two baseballs with scrawled marks – one was a hand, the other was a face. Apart from the inside, the outlines were identical – what was hair in one served as fingers for another. “I can’t tell the difference with these shitty drawings!”  
  
I slurped out a strand of spaghetti in sweet sauce and daintily tapped at my lips with a napkin. “So you don’t think this exercise is being particularly useful?” I asked.  
  
Ichigo looked towards his baseball bat and shook his head in hapless frustration. “The Hollow from last time… it didn’t even look fazed. That one’s aluminum, it shouldn’t snap as easily as a wooden bat. But I don’t know if that’s going to be enough.”  
  
“Ichigo, you are under the impression I am training you both to defeat Hollows. You cannot do that with only your strength.” Rukia said. “Before anything else, you need speed and accuracy. You are not strong enough to block a Hollow’s strike, so you must evade and then strike!” Rukia noted. “You also need to be strong enough and quick enough to pick up and carry away civilians from the area.”  
  
Ichigo nodded reluctantly. The first virtue was always speed, for without it a battle could not be joined nor evaded. While it was true that haste makes waste, an expert can perform tasks at full speed with confidence. “But still-“  
  
“Sir Tanaka, you… you are a horrible excuse for a human being. Your physical abilities are so substandard I am surprised you actually survived this long.”  
  
“He’s a horrible excuse of a human being for more reasons than that,” Ichigo interjected.  
  
“Gratuitous abuse of my ability to heal anything short of instant death or dismemberment!”I replied with a vapid grin.  
  
“… yes. You have admitted, and we have proven, that it works on whatever is in your line of sight and can be considered as having a direct connection to you. The only reason that I am willing to allow you to get anywhere near a battle is that so many things can block the line of sight needed to Heal.”  
  
“The best way to fight is for Ichigo to start wearing me like a backpack.”  
  
Ichigo look unamused. “That’s dumb as bricks.”  
  
Rukia waved off my choice of words and told Ichigo “While you believe we have not been doing anything but resting, we have been making productive discussions.”  
  
I nodded. “For example, what are ghosts and Shinigami and Hollows made of? Why can you – a being made of atoms – touch beings that aren’t? They are invisible to people without spirit levels. So what IS spirit? How can a human contain higher amounts? Do we have some sort of internal storage…? Can it be trained to increase…? Do we simply innately generate spiritual pressure like a magnetic field, completely independent of our organs, or do we gather it from around us as a function of being living souls?"  
  
Rukia jutted her chin out. "Ichigo! To be a warrior, you must first know the enemy as you know yourself. Only then can you win battle after battle!” She sat down at the edge of the table and beckoned. “Come here, Ichigo, it is time for a lesson.”  
  
Rukia then adjusted her sitting position to cross her legs. She waved her hands up and around. “Reishi. Spirit particles. They are the main component of all spiritual beings. They compose the bodies of Shinigami and Hollows alike, and the realms in which they occupy – Soul Society and Hueco Mundo in their entirety. The world of the living is composed of Kishi – or atoms, as you call it.”  
  
Rukia held out her palm, and a small globe of light appeared over it.  
  
“Ooh!” Ichigo and I pulled closer to get a closer look. Hesitantly I reached out. “It… doesn’t feel warm.”  
  
“Heh. It is not so impressive. Reishi is all around us, and it is created by nature. Reishi can be transformed into kishi, but not so easily in the opposite. Reiryoku is the spirit energy possessed by people with a high degree of spiritual sensitivity and willpower. Living souls with high reiryoku also exert reiatsu, that is, spiritual pressure. It is for this reason that a Whole can perceive and even interact with spirit beings.” Then she pointed to the ground. ”Ichigo, pick up and give me that rock.”  
  
After a mystified Ichigo had done so, she continued “By this same token, sufficient reiatsu can interact with the physical. For the living, it is by such pressure disrupting their own reiryoku, and for mere objects, because it can be dense enough to touch.” Rukia began pressing the energy ball and the rock together, but they bounced off. “However, without sensitivity, spiritual beings would still remain invisible. Reishi can emit light, but it is _not light_.”  
  
“Like magnetic fields, Miss Kuchiki? Or gravity! They are invisible, yet still tangible existences.”  
  
She nodded. Rukia’s willingness to waste eight hours in school was also driven by her curiosity to learn more about the living world. Our physics were far less arbitrary than Soul Society and yet new things were still being discovered all the time.  
  
“So what about this reiryoku and reiatsu?” Ichigo asked. “What’s the difference between us humans and Shinigami and Hollows? Does training even help?”  
  
Rukia nodded, pleased that Ichigo was finally being more proactive in his learning. “Reiryoku and reiatsu can be trained. However, because Shinigami are composed of reishi, we can become much more powerful and are not limited by lifespan or the degredation of the body as it ages. How Hollows become more powerful… we are not sure if they do absorb power over time, but it is clear that souls that they devour add to their power.  
  
“Possessing high amounts of reiryoku can make a person stronger and tougher than normal. However, it can never really stop a person from dying. Even we, Shinigami, can die. If we are not killed and devoured by a Hollow, eventually we join the cycle of reincarnation into the Living World.”  
  
The Shinigami held up the rock in her hand. It was a decently large one, nearly the size of her fist. With no effort, she closed her fist and crushed it in her palm. She opened her hand again to let the fragments fall. Ichigo blinked, reminded forcefully that this shorty had supernatural strength far above his own, he shouldn’t be too proud of being able to pick her up and haul her around.  
  
“Muscles, tendons, bones, organs – all of these things contribute to physical strength and stamina. Souls themselves have their equivalents, becoming manifest but made of reishi rather than kishi. But reiatsu is based more on soul and willpower than any organ.”  
  
Her other hand that held the reishi ball began to glow and emit bright energy as if on fire. “Imagine that reiatsu forms as a shell around yourself. With enough spirit pressure and determined intent, move _that_ instead of just your arm. You will be able to hit harder, move faster, with less effort. However, physical conditioning still helps, since it increases your combat abilities which are then amplified by reiatsu.”  
  
Ichigo nodded. “So if we have reiatsu, and that’s what allows us to fight Hollows, how do weapons work?”  
  
“Since you emit spiritual pressure, you can infuse items you are holding with the ability to make contact with normally immaterial spirits. By the same token, Hollows have sufficient density that they can deal damage to physical beings and objects. You should have been asking me this much earlier if you felt your blows would do nothing, but do you understand now?”  
  
Ichigo nodded, went over to his baseball bat and imagined it being filled with spirit power. He swung at the air a few times, as doing if kendo practice. Then he spun around and swung it at a tree. It left a measurable gash on the trunk, but still not much more than what was humanly possible.  
  
“Yeah, I think I can feel how it works now. So why didn’t you just explain it like that, then?”  
  
“Because the first virtue is not Speed, Ichigo! It is Obedience!” Rukia declared, while crossing her arms again and standing on top of the park table to be able to look down upon him. “What is the worth of your pride? It is not armor! Throw it aside, for it will drown you in the river of learning! Clear your mind of all preconceptions, and thus be forged anew!”  
  
“Fine. Whatever. But Jin has to do physical training too. It’s just a waste. I don’t understand people who can’t understand how a little exercise is all they need. Trying to avoid even that little bit of pain to get a healthier body… in the end, they’ll just be in more pain later, and feeling weak all the time _is_ a kind of pain _all the time_. Pain and exhaustion is your body’s way of telling you you’re not doing all right!”  
  
Behind his scowl, Ichigo’s eyes did hold a certain warm insistence. He did care, in his own way.  
  
You just had to understand this accidental delinquent is in his own way a massive goddamn tsundere. Only those willing to put up with his bullshit could be his friend.  
  
“Ah, that reminds me. Reiryoku can also be condensed and driven out of the body to perform a variety of effects. These are the arts known as Kido.” Rukia opened her palm out towards the tree from before and shouted “Hado Number One! Sho!”  
  
A small ball of light burst out from in front of her palm to explode upon the tree trunk. The tree bent back a ways, pulling out some of its roots. Ichigo yelled “Are you trying to kill me, you jackass!” from the near miss.  
  
“They are ranked from one to ninety-nine in terms of power and difficulty. Sir Tanaka, please demonstrate again your Kido use.”  
  
I also held my palm out to the tree, but instead of open facing it I held my hand more vertical with the tips of my fingers pointing out. Then in a quick movement, I snapped my fingers in and my knuckles forward in a one-inch punch. **[Harm!]** Then a series of small punches. **[Harm!] [Harm!]**  
  
The tree began to visibly wither.  
  
“Instant, incantation-less, invisible,” Rukia nodded several times. “How curious. Now your Healing Kido?”  
  
I demurred “Unfortunately, a tree isn’t complex enough for [Heal] to be very functional.”  
  
“Again, an interesting departure from the norm. I could see Reishi being emitted from the tree when you used your [Harm] kido on it. It makes sense that your [Healing] kido reconstructs injuries transforming reishi into kishi, perhaps this is just the opposite. The sheer speed of it is just unprecedented, Healing Kido takes some time and requires focus. But some part of it is very inefficient if it exhausts you so easily.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, that’s nice and all, but it’s still not going to excuse him from getting some goddamn exercise. What kind of willpower is afraid of a little muscle pain?” Ichigo murmured. “If you’re going to bother me about this training, I’m going to nag you about your shit.”  
  
I chuckled. “Fine. You just had to ask.” I began to stretch. “In fact, you only have to ask for anything. Miss Kuchiki and I all this time were wondering when you’d start asking for things. It is fine to be selfish if you want to protect people.”  
  
“I disagree,” Rukia responded, moving to sit down at the table’s edge. Her bearing was less aggressive, but no less adamant from that. “A protector must do more than just protect what is in front of him. One must be committed to protect all that is under their power, or else should not bother. A person can fight for one’s family and loved ones, but a protector must protect all with no bias or hesitation! To take sides, to pick and choose, that is not a protector but a tyrant in the making.”  
  
Soul Society, for all its stratification and arbitrary injustice, its inherent might-makes-right ethos, at least the one thing they respected is the separation of worlds and that all living beings were all equally worthy of protection from Hollows.  
  
“Ah, but we who are bound by our flesh, and our paltry years to flourish beautifully for a few moments and then to wither and die – like the beauty of flowers – are we not the only creatures in all creation allowed to become selfish?”  
  
Rukia nodded. “The mortal world changes very quickly, and yet so much remains the same. Those who are most blessed do not value what a beautiful and transitory life this is, even among the lowest of you. But if you wish to benefit from my training, then abide by my rules. I will not tolerate half-measures!”  
  
“Then why didn’t you make him exercise before this?!” Ichigo pointed out. “I was thinking you hated me or something, it’s not fair just because he’s polite and kisses your ass and agrees with everything you say…” It was at this point a look of enlightenment suddenly broke over Ichigo. “Oh.”  
  
He put down the baseball bat and casually leaned on it. “Is this that sort of kung-fu thing where the old master abuses the pupil who acts as if he deserves to get everything handed to him, while the favored student is actually training by doing the housework? If you want to ask for favors, you gotta be polite?”  
  
Rukia and I looked at each other. “Yeah sure, let’s go with that.”  
  
“… you guys are just assholes.”  
  
  


-x-

  
  
Truth be told, I was worried.  
  
Without his Shinigami powers unlocked, there was no telling what could happen to Ichigo. Rukia is competent enough to deal with most Hollows. The Hollow named Acidwire - formerly Sora Inoue, Orihime’s brother - was not a particularly strong Hollow anyway.  
  
There were a lot of theories why Aizen might be manipulating Ichigo to grow more powerful; from his unique qualities as a Shinigami-Quincy hybrid, from the Hogyoku responding to his wish to face someone more powerful than himself (but unlike him actually having the qualities he lacked as a person, i.e., an honest hero), or because Aizen was actually himself related to Ichigo and it was just the culmination of a grudge against the Shiba family.  
  
One of the four great Noble Families of Soul Society, the Shiba, fell spectacularly fast from grace after their head, [Shiba Kaien](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Kaien_Shiba), was fused with the Hollow, Metastacia, that was the result of one of Aizen’s Shinigami-Hollow hybridization experiments. It was Rukia who actually had to make the killing blow to her Division Lieutenant. It was quite clear she held an unrequited crush on him, but he was a happily married man, and she was very much also inspired by his wife, the gentle and motherly Miyako Shiba. Such kind and beautiful people clearly deserved each other! And very much not the gruesome ends they suffered instead. Their tragic deaths broke Rukia’s hopes of a world with justice.  
  
Ichigo distressingly looked a lot like Kaien.  
  
I guessed that was part of why Rukia behaved so acerbically towards him. The more annoyed and disrespectful he acted, the easier it was to separate this boy from the man in her memories.  
  
It was just past sunset. I was walking home alone. And suddenly I had the strangest feeling of being watched.  
  
A bestial growl reached my ears, its direction indistinct. Karakura had no shortage of these side roads with joined high property walls. I was effectively trapped in a blind murder corridor. Behind me, or in front of me?  
  
Hollows and Shingami were still invisible to me.  
  
Rukia had verified my spirit pressure was so much less than Ichigo’s. Slightly less than Yuzu, in fact. Rukia believed it was my innate sensitivity allowing instinctive use of Kido that allowed me to perceive spiritual beings over what my spirit level implied.  
  
It also meant I was not a very tempting meal for Hollows.  
  
I had very much hoped I was too much of a small fry to earn the spite of a villainous mastermind for foiling his plans.  
  
I moved to put my back to a wall and glanced to either side. The street remained dim and empty. There were no tell-tale signs of footsteps. The growl increased in volume, coming closer. Wait. Shit.  
  
I looked up. Is it above me?!  
  
And then there was only time for screaming.

 


	9. 2.4 Encounter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I screamed as something rammed into me from the side. “Fu-!” Bounce. “ Shi-!” Bounce. “Hel-!” Poing. “ Dam-!” Poing. And then some more as I began pinballing across the deserted street and off property walls. “Motherf-!”

Just like a few days ago, this was the main problem with the [Shield of Protection]. Relatively quick to cast, protects against surprise attacks above a certain velocity or not starting from within the semi-permeable shield, but as it’s not actually anchored to anything that can apply sufficient force to affect the shield as a whole could take me out of the fight just as effectively.

I could dismiss the [Shield] and recast it, but that would just waste my Fatigue. Leveling up four times only brought by usable fatigue to 33. I closed my eyes and exhaled and fought the urge to hurl as I spun around like a helpless rodent in its hamster ball.

I opened my arms out and imagined the globe of Force surrounding me flatten out, and dug my fingers in as if getting a grip on the ground. Suddenly the [Shield] began to exert properties of friction. I abruptly stopped and rebounded into place, like one of those bottom-weighed [roly-poly toys](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roly-poly_toy).

As I got back onto stable footing, the enemy did not attack again. It was still invisible to me.

 

And this was the reason why Rukia and I spent most of our time in consultations than in physical training. Kido and the manipulation of spirit energy was a matter of focus, intent, and energy density. The chants were long, but their precisely measured length and cadence of works also allowed for the proper amount of time to accumulate and shape reishi.

But what happens if you _don’t_ shape reishi?

“ _Reiryoku emerges from the body from a point here, near the wrists_ ” Rukia instructed. “ _This is why the use of weapons is very effective for combating Hollows, though there is unarmed combat and Kido can be just as powerful. As you have seen, the best possible outcome is that it simply fails, becoming loose undirected reishi. More likely it just that it explodes. If improperly directed, the energy can even feed back and cause injuries._ ”

_“I don’t do any of that though”_ was my reply.

_“While it is interesting that your natural Kido is so stable, perhaps you should give a mind to it. That it exhausts you so easily makes me suspicious that much of the energy is being wasted creating turbulence as it exits your body. It is not that you are left feeling tired, you are feeling your body starting to **burn out from the inside**.”_

 

I spread my hands out to either side of the road and cast [Conjure Spirit]. It cost me the same 10 Fatigue as usual, bringing my usable Fatigue down to 18. As the Necromantic Energy washed across the street, transformed Reishi clung to the outline of the Hollow, and thus illuminated it was like my eyes becoming used to low light. It would have been a serious pain if I needed to maintain a zone of [Conjure Spirit] (three Fatigue every ten seconds!) just to see Hollows and Shinigami.

The enemy revealed itself in all its dread potency, a creature twice my height even while hunched over; a dark creature almost entirely made of bones and muscles. Its Hollow mask was elongated and ended in a maw of sharp teeth. Bone spikes protruded out of a night-black body, and its hands ended in hooked claws. There was something vaguely familiar in its werewolf-like appearance, so frak it, Imma call you [Beowolf](http://rwby.wikia.com/wiki/Beowolf).

It growled at me, apparently irritated that I had ruined its ambush predator vibe. It tried to pull back and activate its shadow-cloaking power, but as it noticed my eyes still followed its movements, it stopped trying.

Yeah I’m in trouble.

Fortunately I had a three step plan for such an occasion.

 

**> Step One: Attempt Diplomacy.**

 

“Excuse me, Mister Hollow Sir? Can you understand me? Are you able to speak? Or are you just a bundle of instincts and hunger?”

The Hollow ‘Beowolf’ growled and prepared to pounce. Bundle of instincts it was, then.

 

**> Step Two: Apply Defensive Buffs.**

 

As it crouched, so did I imitate its action. I spread my feet out evenly and lowered my hips in the basic horse stance. Then I began waving my noodly arms up and down, forming a cresting sine wave passing from one arm, up and down my shoulders, out to my other arm and to the tips of the fingers and then back again. I swept my arms up like an eagle. A [Monkey-Eating Eagle](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/40/73/d9/4073d91e5c740db0f1ee195609ce4d5e--philippine-eagle-cutest-animals.jpg).

I held my arms out there for a moment. And then, on one swift explosive motion, I drew my hands in to grasping claws around my belt buckle.

“[ROCK N ROLL!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5l1hhbuyMo)”

A flash of loose unfocused reishi burst forth, enough to make the Hollow squint. You would not believe how much practice it took to deliberately waste energy like that.

When the light faded, my clothes had been switched to the motorcycling [impact protective jacket](http://www.motorcycle-usa.com/photogallerys/impact-armor.jpg?378220) in my Inventory. I really only had two organs that must be protected – my heart and my brain. Any attack that could not take out either or knock me unconscious instantly would be unlikely to kill me.

Outside styling [was more like this though](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/cf/ee/42/cfee42201f99e92d79a8977446df9190.jpg). We had no time to do much more than raid the nearest gothic clothing store. I had no temptation to get a badass longcoat; too heavy, hot, and cumbersome, and really for men who didn’t have the guts to wear a dress or a robe. (Yes, I refer to you, Ichigo – you and your Bankai and its flared coattails and wide-bottomed hakama. That’s still just _a goddamn skirt_ , Ichigo.)

I stood up and pointed at my enemy with pistol fingers. “Mysterious Teenage Superhero J is here!” I shouted. “Let’s all have a good time!

The Hollow screamed and leapt.

I clenched my fists.

And I ran.

My steps pounded upon the pavement, sending reverberating shocks up the balls of my feet and needles into my spine. My blood pounded in my ears. Breath began to fail to supply my lungs. Fatigue drained in seconds, my vision began to black out and narrow.

I had an Intelligence of 9. Intelligence, apart from being a measure of intellectual acuity, was also the main stat defining how much focus I could spare to maintain concurrent spells. I could cast and keep two spells at once.

**[Agility of Fire]**.

My Dexterity was 6. The spell granted me +4, bumping my Dexterity to 10, a practical average for a teenager.

**[Agility of Fire]**.

And it stacks!

Now with _fourteen_ Dexterity, I could now accomplish a feat of coordination and flexibility I’d never before have dared to dream. My Speed was directly equal to my Dexterity.

 

I ran in the opposite direction. The Hollow’s outraged howl followed me.

Because the hell do you think I am?! Some sort of shonen action protagonist? That’s Ichigo!

 

**> Step Three: Take out phone and call Ichigo.**

 

I had him on speed dial. Funny thing, Rukia was issued a cellphone with a spirit radar that allowed her to find Hollows, receive text messages straight from the afterlife, and collect bounties for purified Hollows. What it didn’t have was a SIM card compatible with mortal cell networks, because _of course_ Seireitei wouldn’t bother to waste time ensuring compatibility with standards that changed very quickly in mortal scales. It was a smartphone well ahead of its time that functioned in every way _except_ to act like a phone.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

Dammit, Ichigo! We talked about this!

I jammed the cellphone into the padding between my ears and my cheeks and let it ring as I continued to run. I was starting to feel the burn. My Endurance was still a measly 6.

Running any further would bring me to the intersection of the more trafficked main roads.

Yeah, no. Innocent people being killed by something they can’t even see.

Unacceptable.

I took one last deep breath, and skidded to a stop, spinning around to I end up in a strange half-crawling stance. I looked up to see a maw full of fangs. The Beowolf had never been more than three or so steps behind me. Now it was mid-leap, at perfect head to take my head off. I dismissed one [Agility of Fire] and brought back the [Shield]. Usable Fatigue plunged down to 8. My Speed reduced to 10, a perfectly average number.

My hands were touching the ground. I ducked and flung myself forward, visualizing my [Shield of Protection] back into a frictionless globe of Force. Without a general idea of how to shape and increase the density of reiatsu, I would never have been able to on-the-fly adjust energy pressure at cost of additional Fatigue per second. I slid back down the side-road, on my belly, exactly like some happy penguin. The Beowolf overshot and smashed into a parked car, crumpling it into a metal pancake.

Oh Jesus that was terrifying.

I gasped for breath as slowly I tried to regain my footing. The Hollow was only for a brief while disoriented by the impact. As it pulled its face out of the crumpled remains of a 1998 Toyota Corolla E110 (yes, die, you painfully generic trashcar!), I began to take hesitant fearful steps backwards.

I opened my hand and a bottle of Gatorade slapped onto my palm. As it lifted its head to give me an eyeless yet still somehow enraged glare, I turned around and began to run right back to where I started from. While running I drank from the bottle and choked and coughed as the energy drink went down the wrong pipe.

You might be thinking, but Jin James, why didn’t you just stand and fight? Isn’t the whole point of embroiling yourself in Ichigo’s mess to earn XP from defeating enemies? Isn’t being cowardly and running from enemies counter to the whole idea of having Willpower?

Well I would just like to remind you that while Willpower is the primary stat for Mages, my Willpower is NINE. It is only slightly above average. It is somewhat of a chicken or the egg question – how can my Willpower increase if I do things that don’t display bravery or willpower? Or is it my lack of inherent Willpower that is preventing me from being a battle junkie shonen action hero?

But the thing is, Willpower isn’t just wanting things or being brave in the face of danger. Strength directly maps to Intelligence as the Physical and Cerebral _Powers_.  Dexterity and Perception are equivalent agencies of _Prowess_. Beauty and Charisma are are the components of _Appearance_. Physical Endurance has as its counterpart Willpower as the Cerebral expression of _Resistance_.

Willpower is how far and how much you are willing to endure in order to achieve or preserve what you value. And I do value Victory over mere Survival. I choose to fight the fights where I know I can win.

I was not Ichigo. I was not the Team’s DPS _or_ Tank. Drawing aggro was Ichigo’s entire goddamn job!

 

As the Beowolf let out another enraged howl and charged at me again, I kicked off the ground and switched my mental image of the [Shield of Protection] back into the slippery dome of Force. Rather than running, I saved physical fatigue by sliding around.

See, there was fatigue and then there’s Fatigue. One was the pain and buildup of lactic acid in muscle cells. Then, there was the ability measurement of that increased with Levels. While Fatigue was influenced by my own physical and mental endurance, it was clear that it was a limited but self-replenishing value. It makes sense that it’s some sort of soul energy _pressure_ except not really because I wasn’t casting anything off a reserve of reiryoku.

I believe my existence is something of an undefined quality to the world. The amount of **Health Points** was basically just how long before the world notices 'hey, you should be dying from that', and **Fatigue Points** how much I can get away with before the world decides to slap me down insensate for my temerity.

I had WIL of 9 and INT of 9. As noted this meant I could only concurrently maintain two spells. My Fatigue Recovery was 2 per 10 seconds. [Shield] normally consumed 1 Fatigue every ten seconds, as a semi-permeable field around me that slowed down incoming attacks, while [Agility of Fire] consumed 1 Fatigue for perceptible improvements in coordination, reflexes, and nerve impulses.

In theory, running was more Fatigue-efficient than maintaining a [Shield] – a speed of 14 was roughly equivalent to that of an athlete and it was always better to avoid blows than to block them, but now after trying it out the [Shield] could now have certain useful properties for mobility on these perfectly flat roads.

What the hell is Force, anyway? This Magickal discipline dealt with the manipulation of pure energy. In general it seemed to mess around the electromagnetics. Magick, as a power, had horrible effects on technology. I would not like to be a walking EMP, ruining electronics everywhere I go.

But the thing is, the source material was against a backdrop of technological society in the 19th Century. Given my more modern mindset with all the voodoo of relativity and quantum mechanics, believing in science did not need to interfere with imposing my will upon the universe. A working force shield was actually somewhat possible [within the framework of modern physics](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qo3a-ZQtx98).

I could do [spooky action at a distance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9CSlHWR_SwU) with surprisingly low amounts of energy. Give me a metal gauntlet, and I have arbitrarily powerful electromagnets.

The [Shield of Protection] was basically an arbitrarily powerful dome of [electrostatic force](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ViZNgU-Yt-Y). I was trapping reishi through its currents and creating a repulsive effect. This is probably similar to the Quincy technique of [Hirenkyaku](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Hirenkyaku), but much less efficient since it is a full body projection. Manipulating the shape and density of my [Shield] varied its Fatigue maintenance cost.

It’s a pity. I can’t go full Magneto on things with cheatery bullshit, because as interesting as the College of Force Magick may be, as a budding Necromancer the endpoint of my spell list is the much more valuable [Resurrection].

I thought back to Shinigami and their soul laboratories. What the hell even _is_ technology anyway?

Bottle after bottle dropped into my hand, contents gulped down quickly one after the other. MAX Coffee, delicious, but no instant energy boost. Fruit juices did not replenish my Fatigue either. Herbal drinks… mildly, I think?

Oh! I just felt a surge of soothing relief, like tense muscles finally relaxing under the hands of a skilled massage therapist. What’s the active ingredient in this water that works equivalent to a Fatigue Restorer?

[... 30x Homeopathic Activated Water](https://skeptoid.com/episodes/4034).

“WHY DOES THIS FUCKING WOOOOORK???!!!”

I spun around and angrily hurled the bottle at the Hollow’s face. The hard plastic bottle bounced off its snout. The Beowolf actually stopped for a bit, confused at the sheer rage in my voice, so much rage to overpower even its own ravenous fury.

It’s basically just pure water! BULLSHIT!

 

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Ring. Click.

Oh.

“Whoever this is, this is NOT a good time!” Ichigo’s voice came through the cellphone still jammed into my helmet.

“Oh, hey, strawberry. What are you up to?”

“Jin? Ah, okay. Good that you called. Where are you? No, wait, forget that – just stay where you are! (“What? Yes, it’s Jin. No, I’m going to talk to him first.)”

“Is that Miss Kuchiki? Something happened on your end?”

I dismissed the remaining [Agility of Fire]. A few days ago, I had three points that could be spent. The first went to [Conjure Spirit] for obvious reasons. The second point purchased [Agility of Fire] because a general improvement in dexterity and physical coordination helps everywhere in daily life.

And the third…

“A Hollow just attacked me again in my house. In my bedroom! I just discovered this midget has been living in MY HOUSE in MY CLOSET, in secret, like some sort of horror story hobo! (Yes of course it’s important enough to mention that!)”

The Hollow sprang at me again. With the [Shield] still acting like a frictionless lifting body except for the parts where my feet make contact with the ground, I slide-strafed to the side, and bounced at an angle off a brick wall to pass behind the Hollow.

“I see. And you’re okay? What are you doing now?”

“We’re following the Hollow to… uh…”

“Ichigo, if you’re trying to protect me by keeping me away from the fighting, measure that against the risks of people DYING without me to [Heal] them or encase them in a [Shield of Protection].”

“… damn. Fine. We’re on the way to Orihime’s house. (Dammit, stop!) Okay I’m handing the phone over to the psycho midget now-”

I skipped to the side as the Beowolf swung at me with its massive claws. A deep furrow was carved into the wall behind me, continuing to cut the metal pole of a parking sign. It fell over with a loud clang.

Weird, you’d think someone would have woken up from all this commotion by now. Even if Hollows were invisible to people, all this noise and property damage should have drawn attention. I wondered if loose reishi and reiroyu/reiatsu encouraged people to subsconsciously avoid/ignore powerful supernatural predators.

“One last thing, Ichigo! What more can you tell me about the Hollow? Did you discover anything relevant about its powers, its identity?”

“Identity…? How do you know about…? Aaah, fine! We’re heading to Orihime’s house because… I recognized the face under the mask. It’s… Hollows… Hollows are made of people, Jin. It’s Orihime’s brother.”

“Ichigo, don’t worry about it. I kinda figured it out long ago from how Rukia kept calling ghosts like her as Pluses and Hollows as Minuses. It makes sense that lost souls can turn into monsters. There’s a lot of that in old legends all over the world.”

“But if we’re killing Hollows, we’re… we’re killing people. And don’t tell me that they’re already dead it doesn’t count! Shorty here said that purifying Hollows with a shinigami’s sword releases them and all the souls they ate into Soul Society, and I get that’s a good thing – but she’s not answering what happens if someone else manages to kill a Hollow. (Ouch! Dammit! Fine! You can stop punching me in the kidneys now!)”

“Hello? Sir Tanaka?”

“Oh hello, Miss Kuchiki. So, I just heard about the Hollow attack. I’m sorry to say I’ll probably not be able to assist you very soon anyway. Ichigo didn’t need to worry.”

“Good. That’s very good!” the relief in her voice was unmistakable. “It’s good to know that I can rely on you to be reasonable, instead of this hothead over here.”

 “Ahahah. Thanks, that's... great..” While sliding around was faster, the globe of Force reduced the room I had to maneuver. I rolled on the ground, reducing the density of the [Shield] to the barest minimum while still maintaining its existence, while the Hollow tried to stomp my face flat. "Whups."

 “… Sir Tanaka, I just heard something strange. Your voice… your breathing… you sound as if you are doing some strenuous activity. Are you actually _fighting a Hollow right now?!_ ”

 “Sort of. Yes.”

 “You fool! Get out of there! (Ichigo, get off me!)”

 Ichigo’s voice replaced Rukia’s. “Jin! Where the hell are you?!”

 “Too far away from Orihime’s house for me to help you or for you to help me in time. Don’t worry about it.”

 Ichigo’s voice was a roaring tsunami in my ears. “You absolute retarrrd!”

 “Ichigo, I can at least defend myself or hold it off until you’re done. Orihime or Tatsuki will just outright **die**. Go save your princess. Now you have all the incentive to get it all done fast! Speedrun that shit, Ichigo!”

 “Don’t be such a stupid goddamn hypocrite! Tell me where you are right now!” His voice broke for a moment- “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to help fighting a Hollow with Rukia, but at least I can help you! Defeating Hollows is her goddamn job – you said survival is ours!”

 Once more I began sliding on my back like some sort of luge rider. This was the whole point of my running around – in the initial attack, the Hollow blocked the way back towards the park; running until the end of the street so that I could corner and go back down and out again to a more open area for fighting.

 “Only if you promise to save the girls first.”

 “Fine!”

 

Trivia time. Japan’s streets? [Tend not to have names](http://www.todayifoundout.com/index.php/2012/04/most-japanese-streets-dont-have-names/). “Find me at Yumisawa, near the Children’s Park.”

 Technically I did not live in Karakura Town. I actually lived north in the district called Yokotari, but Karakura High was much closer to our house.

 Ichigo! Stew in your helplessness, Ichigo! And break through!

But as for me…

Time to make my stand.

 

Heh. Time to Make my Stand.

 

-x-


	10. 2.5 Exorcism

  
  
In life there are certain rules. And by this I don’t mean things like the transmigration of souls, how Stands have a defined range, or how Bankai is supposed to confer a five or ten times boost to abilities (which is  _clearly_ bullshit), or even how the defined mechanics of my existence translate much more vaguely in reality.  
  
No; I mean much more common-sense and universal concepts than that. Like say, ‘ _the nail that stands out is hammered down_ ’ and ‘ _Japan has deep-set problems with racism and bullying_ ’.  
  
Things of that nature that persist across realities, even in the animelands.  
  
Or perhaps  _specially_  in the animelands, because in this universe people are all too willing to get into fistfights for the pettiest of reasons. Foreigners are funny, and whatever their ways they will eventually just leave. But a  _hafu,_  a mixed-race child, has less such protections.  
  
There’s even a word for it:  **[ _Ijime_](https://thisjapaneselife.org/2013/06/12/japan-ijime-bullies/)**.  
  
Unlike bullying in the West, where it’s usually a more personal affair between a few bullies who feel powerful in picking on the weak, in Japanese schools it is a much more concentrated group effort. It is much harder when you feel literally everyone is your enemy. Those who claim to be uninvolved only look as if they support making someone into a pariah, even a few moments of joining polite laughter into a mean joke will be enough to forever taint them in the eyes of someone who needs help.  
  
Sado Yasutora (or Chad, as we like to call him) has felt this, being such a person so obviously different from the others. His size and power attracted the attention of delinquents while others feared to approach. Orihime Inoue has felt this, being bullied just for the color of her hair, though we did not know if it was inherited from her mother who was a prostitute or perhaps her father who would beat his wife and children when they were being noisy. But none of that could compare to the feeling of torture in school.  
  
Tatsuki eventually stepped in to become her protector. She punched faces until it was clear that Orihime was no longer an acceptable target, and then the bullying just… stopped. That’s really all that it takes.  
  
Yet until someone else decides to step up rather than appear to be giving mute support to the bullies in fear of becoming a target themselves, the victim would be blamed for being ‘disruptive’ and ‘refusing to integrate with the group’, the sin of being ‘antisocial’, in a self-destructive spiral as they cannot trust anyone who tries to approach until Japan’s teenage suicide rate gets one more tick.  
  
But Orihime was  _saved_. This is a world that  _needs_  heroes.  
  
Do you understand now why I respected the hell out of Chizuru? She refused to conform. She refused to be  _broken_.  
  
I lived in the town north of Karakura. I met Ichigo and Tatsuki as children in a martial arts class, but we didn’t go to the same junior high schools. Even Chizuru and I didn’t go to same junior high. (Actually I think she deliberately chose to go to a different school to avoid me because of my perceived ‘betrayal’ when she found out I wasn’t actually a girl.)  
  
My innocence had to be stripped from me at about the time I was eleven years old. It was around that age that I was starting to demonstrate just what  _14 Beauty_  meant in a world where most people averaged 8-10. Like Chizuru, I had to deal with a culture that was still vastly hostile to possible homosexuality. As a  _hafu_ , I was the most acceptable of targets.  
  
Loneliness kills, you know?  
  
Harassment began when one of the girls began taunting me about trying to look like a girl, and when I responded ‘I can look better as a girl than any girl’, I had made her my enemy.  _It is better to follow others than to stand alone_ , this is the basic lesson learned through our society. Those I approached began to draw away lest in standing out they became targets too. Boys began to exclude me from their activities lest their own inclinations be questioned, the girls resented me or simply joined in the bullying to ‘fit in’ with the rest of the group.  
  
“You’re weird” is the worst of things you can say to a child. In a school in America, or in Europe, or even in my mother’s Philippines – that would not be such a bad thing. You can be weird  _and_  interesting. But not in Japanese Junior High.  
  
My belongings began to go missing, I would hear outbursts that I was whoring myself out and rumors unchallenged had a way of sounding true; that was one more reason for the administration to consider me a ‘problem child’. One day I had to walk home in my school shoes because someone has stolen my normal shoes out of the shoe locker and was then accused of stealing, and because I am  _hafu_  of a South-East Asian ethnicity of course it was assumed I was a thief  _and_ a liar. American and European  _hafu_  are acceptable enough, but pity for you if you were half-Korean or half-other Asian or half-black.  
  
Every time there was something missing, I was the first target.  
  
Missing phones? Look in Jin’s bag. The fact that it was obviously planted there could not be believed when no one else in the class could dare speak up in support.  
  
_“Why do you say these things?”_  I asked back then.  _“You know it hurts me.”_  
  
“It’s just a joke. You’re just acting again! You feel better about yourself when you make us look bad, you liar!”

  
  
What is beauty in the world?  
  
Flowers are pretty because they  _die_.  
  
Mountains are pretty because everything else  _dies_.  
  
Necromantic Black.  **[Harm.]**  
  
I was physically pathetic, and none of the boys wanted to partner with me during gym activities. Teams that had me would automatically lose, being effectively short one person. One day I ‘tripped’ and some boys drove my face into the sand and began stomping at the back of my head. Sand pressed into my skin until it bled, maybe leaving pockmarked scars like acne.  
  
Necromantic White.  **[Heal.]**  
  
I wanted [to go Carrie](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carrie_White) over everybody. I really did. It wouldn’t even be hard! [Harm] was untraceable. It could look like a heart attack or brain aneurysm. A [Harm] strike in the right moment, like while driving or crossing an intersection or walking down stairs… well, that’s just an unfortunate accident, isn’t it?  
  
It would have been so easy…

  
  
Chizuru.  
  
After one bad day I decided to go gussy up, put on a dress, and asked Chizuru for a date. Even she decided to reject me, saying that she would not live a lie. I told her that I admired her bravery, and wished that I could be so courageous… but I didn’t need anything more from her than just her friendship again.  
  
_“Chizuru. I need you.”_  
  
She looked angrily at me, then just tired, and decided to accept. It was a very awkward, yet comfortable enough date. We held hands throughout. I found myself crying from just that simple human contact.  
  
_“Don’t do this, Jin. If this isn’t you, don’t try to force it. It’s bad for you.”_  
  
“I can be anything you want me to be, Chizuru.”  
  
“Don’t! I need you to be you… to let me be me. I’m not going to live a lie, so I’m not going to let you live one either. If your heart isn’t in it… that… that would just break the both of us.”  
  
Chizuru was not the one to save me either. Part of me resented her for that, so I avoided her for a while.  
  
But there were rules. A sullen, withdrawn, suspicious person was not so Beautiful. I could not simply ignore everybody and act above it all. I mean, look, that’s just Ichigo! Look at those pouty lips of his! You can be hot while being standoffish, but that’s not what Past-Me required from me.  
  
The world needed heroes, but it was well on the way to making another villain.  
  
Considering in the present I was far more confident, more secure in my own identity, to the point that it drew fangirls rather than resentment, who was it that saved me? It was not myself. I hated myself, I blamed myself, far more than I wanted to just mindlessly kill those that were picking on me.  
  
My savior came with the late 90’s.  
  
Under the subconscious influence of Past-Me and his memories influencing the ease with which I acquired languages (especially English and German), I found myself turning to strangers on the nascent Internet for help.

> JinJam> I’m an eleven year old boy from Japan. I’m being bullied in school.
> 
> JinJam> I can prove it.  
>  JinJam> What should I do?
> 
>  

My father and mother knew that I was being bullied, but my parents confronting the school faculty led to nowhere. They didn’t understand [that written requests and documentation were harder to ignore](https://educationinjapan.wordpress.com/education-system-in-japan-general/our-children-are-being-bullied/what-to-do-when-your-child-is-being-bullied-in-a-japanese-school/). We needed evidence.  
  
I trawled some of the early forums and chat groups for suggestions. Anyone remember geocities? I had a free website that detailed my experiences and took pictures of the school. Getting photographic evidence of me being bullied was harder, for micro cameras were still expensive and not quite so micro in those days.  
  
But audio evidence by wearing a wire? That was easier.  
  
This was actually the reason why I wore such tight clothing these days. Aside from how it accentuated my nubile form, it helped to reassure people that if I actually had a superhero name, it would no longer be  _The Recorder_.  
  
But in the end, do you know what saved me?  
  
I eventually made contact with English-speaking foreign teachers in Japan, and speaking to them, and meeting them in person, the first impression they got was  _‘holy shit, this is a beautiful child’_  and hearing me speak and reason with them identical to our e-mails  _‘holy shit, is this child actually a genius?’_  
  
In the culture of the West, the unusual was interesting. I said  _‘I don’t want to be a symbol. I just don’t want to feel alone. I could endure… sometimes I feel like I want to kill myself, but I need to survive… just let me live long enough, let me go to Hollywood! I just want to survive… but out there, I’m gonna_ **live**!’  
  
‘Dayum, kid. [You better be talking to a modeling agency right now.](http://www.parents.com/kids/style/modeling/child-model/)’

  
It was the power of money.  
  
Money saved me.  
  
I modeled for clothes and toys and gear. This was how my family began to be able to afford more and more foreign vacations. They coincided with pictorials: I milked being half-Filipino to Philippine magazines and half-Japanese to Califonia and Hawaii publications. I was pretty damn big in Germany too. I was also available for voice acting in their cartoons. I couldn’t sing and dance worth a damn, but there were ways to fake that.  
  
Beauty was  _a valuable commodity_.  
  
And by the time my face was part of a TV ad, I could walk into class and announce “Hey,  **fuckheads!** ” as a greeting. In the 2000s, being 'mixed' was just becoming cool. I was cool now.  
  
Ah, but Chizuru didn’t need anyone else to save her.  
  
She’s just naturally such a perverted little shit that all their attempts to ostracize her slid right off. Hahaha. Oh Chizuru.

  
  
What's the point all of this though?  
  
You know how it is. How your life flashes by when you’re about to die.

 

 

-x-

  
I was currently impaled into a tree straight through the gut by a Hollow’s claws. My laughter only seemed to confuse it further.  
  
Past-Me’s influence faded bit by bit over the years. I ate his memories and his abilities until nothing remained. This life was completely my own; I owned my decisions! I am myself! And what I want most of all – is to live!  
  
That moment crystalized the potential still waiting to be tapped in my mind.  
  
If I had a Stand, its name would probably be [NOSI BALASI](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glNRg76AS4I).  
  
Who the fuck do you think you are?!  
  
I pressed my hands onto the Beowolf’s forelimbs and delivered three [Harms] visualized straight into the bone. The Hollow’s forearm exploded into a shower of purplish gore.  
  
Hahaha.  
  
My arms are not long enough.  
  
My arms are not strong enough.  
  
My legs are not fast enough.  
  
My heart is not robust enough.  
  
But  **who are you**  to tell me I should die?!  
  
With the entire length of a sandbox separating us, and with me still impaled onto a tree and bleeding out by the moment, I mimed punching at the Hollow’s face. Its mask cracked.  
  
I touched the claws pinning me to the tree and sent a surge of Necromantic energy to disrupt its reishi.  **[Summon Spirit]** can call souls from the afterlife, and also dismiss them. I fell down, and managed to cast  **[Heal]**  before making contact with the ground.  
  
The Beowolf roared in pain and anger and lunged at me again.  
  
I smiled.  
  
It slammed into the ground off to the side and behind me, as if something just punched it right in the head.  
  
To put it simply, I cannot have a Stand. This universe does not operate by Jojo rules. The closest would be a zanpakuto, but that would necessitate being a Shinigami, and, you know,  _dead_. Also, zanpakuto as a separate identity were actually a manifestation of the Hollow that all people had inside.  
  
Hollowification can happen to both living and the dead, as Urahara and Aizen discovered, because being a Hollow is a natural ground state for existence. Positive to negative flow can be visualized in electrical applications as ‘electron holes’, gaps in space where electrons could go even though there are none present.  
  
The Beowolf stood up only to be smacked down again.  
  
I am a Necromancer. But before that, I am a mage! Ever has it been a dream of mankind, before even flight, to be able to move things with the force of will alone! It is the one thing denied to technology!  
  
_Gawin mo lang  
ang gusto mo._  
  
I’ll do what I like.  
  
The Hollow’s roar was punctuated by smacks, each time growing weaker and weaker.  
  
Heh. Heh. Heh.  
  
“I summon you, spirit.”  
  
Who are they?  
  
Who are they, behind a Hollow’s mask?  
  
I can’t have a Stand, but [ **NOSI BALASI]** … unjumbled SINO BA SILA (who are they?) , perhaps  **OWHA THEREY** … is a [Conjuration] directed at myself. I am a soul. The spirit rebels against itself. I take that fear, that anger, that despair, that helplessness… and give it solidity the same way  **[Shield of Protection]**  worked. Each hit is a tangible amount of  **[Conjure Spirit]**  that draws out more and more of the previous victims and regrets of the Hollow. The more hits, the more solid it becomes. My ‘Stand’ was not mine at all, but could only exist in the presence of Hollows.  
  
This felt like bullying.  
  
The Hollow was whimpering.  
  
It was dying.  
  
This  _was_ bullying.  
  
The bullied hate themselves most of all. Their helplessness, their lack of power, their self-control – in many ways, a Hollow is the human being’s raw hate and hunger given form, but like their Hollow holes, all that freed power and lack of restraint will never fill the emptiness left inside.  
  
Slowly I got to my feet and limped over to the Hollow, now lying with its neck and jaws pressed to the ground. “That’s enough…” I whispered. “Rest now. It’s going to be just fine.”  
  
The Hollow let out a low keening wail.  
  
I cast  **[Conjure Spirit]**  one more time, spreading and suffusing the Necromantic energy all through the Hollow. It thrashed about, then became petrified. “Who are you?” I asked. “That doesn’t matter now. Forget all your regrets, all your pains, and be renewed. May you find a better life beyond this one.”  
  
I dismissed  **[Conjure Spirit]**  and the Hollow just faded away into spirit particles as if blowing away in the wind.  
  
Then I felt cold hands wrap around my neck. Guk.  
  
Oh. Right. I guess I never really got over how I tend to cheat my way out of my problems. I dismissed the other ‘slot’ of  **[Conjure Spirit]**  in my mind and my imagined (and still invisible even to myself) form of [ **NOSI BALASI]**  vanished alongside the present wash of Necromantic energies.  
  
That’s how I knew Necromantic arcane energy was different from loose reishi. They could probably transform into each other, yes, but you can’t just dismiss reishi without using it. The most you could do was displace it, the same way that particles of gas fill out all volume in a space.  
  
I dropped and gasped for breath. I popped open the faceplate in my helmet and spat out gobs of blood. I popped raw ginger into my mouth and chewed.  **[Heal.] [Heal.]**  
  
“What  _are_  you, Tanaka?”  
  
I turned to see [Uryuu Ishida](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Ury%C5%AB_Ishida) walk out from the shadow of trees.  
  
“Oh. Uryuu. What are you doing here?”  
  
“[I happen to live nearby](https://www.flickr.com/photos/cesar-pics/5063906666).”  
  
Huh. Actually did not know that. “Couldn’t you have saved me earlier?”  
  
He looked around at the devastation, the toppled trees, the bent metal frames and splintered tables, and the crushed concrete, all caused by my frantic dodging until the Hollow managed to tag me. “I didn’t realize you need saving until the commotion drew my attention. Do you know what you were fighting?”  
  
“The Hollow?”  
  
"Mmm." Uryuu touched his glasses. "Does the word Quincy mean anything to you?”  
  
“Yes. But Ichigo is more related to you than I am.”  
  
Uryuu’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that so? You will have to tell me more about that. But first, you should probably get some medical attention. Come with me. You should know my father is a doctor also.”  
  
“There’s no time for that!”  
  
“Stop being such an imbecile, Tanaka-“  
  
I swiped my hand out in the air and a bicycle dropped out of nowhere. “Get on the goddamn bike, Ishida!”  
  
“What.”

 

 

-x-

  
I won.  
  
By myself.  
  
Kehehehe. I gained a level, of course. Level Five. And two character points with it! Awesome!  
  
It really only took mentioning Orihime was in danger for Uryuu to abandon the humiliation of someone chancing to see me riding on his back. We were zooming down deserted Karakura streets towards Orihime’s house.  
  
We arrived to see all of its front walls blasted out, the [Hollow Acidwire](https://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/bleach/images/7/7e/Acidwire_attacks_Tatsuki.png/revision/latest?cb=20100116173158&path-prefix=en) slithering in to attack, a bloodied Ichigo screaming “NO! DON’T DO IT!”, and Orihime in spirit form jumping in front of Rukia’s blade. Rukia pulled her slice just in time, but it was as if the air rang with the sound of a spirit chain being cut in twain.  
  
Uryuu leapt off the bike, bluish-white reishi coalesced in his hands to form a Quincy spiritual bow, and aimed it at the Shinigami.  
  
As I and the bike clattered down to the ground I hissed, “Well,  _shit_.”

 

 

-x-


	11. 3.1 Resistance

  
  
There was a cold tension in the air, even the most spiritually unsensitive could feel it.  
  
Orihime arrived, accompanied by Tatsuki, and they were holding hands. She moved very slowly and very carefully almost like an old woman, and Tatsuki supported her all the way. Orihime gripped her friend's hands very tightly, as if she could drift away if she ever let go. This beautifully innocent brown-haired girl took a very relieved breath once she could finally sit. Everyone knew that Orihime had been in a car accident, her left arm was still in a plaster cast, but this looked serious.  
  
What happened? Another accident? Brain or nerve damage?  
  
Ichigo arrived some time later, and pointedly Orihime didn’t brighten up or try to greet him. That was downright eerie. It was Ichigo who spoke up first.  
  
“Inoue… how are you doing?” he asked.  
  
“I’m fine, Kurosaki-kun,” she replied tonelessly. “Thank you for asking.”  
  
He nodded somberly. There was nothing more he could say. Ichigo knew his limits, he didn’t have the words to comfort people after their loss. He understood what it meant though, and perhaps the comfort he offered all the way back when her brother died in his father’s clinic, their shared loss, the memory of that guy and the tears he allowed to fall from his eyes still meant something to Orihime.  
  
Rukia entered next, and she looked almost dead. While on the outside nothing was wrong, the fixed friendly smile on her face was like that of a lifeless doll. When Rukia and Orihime’s glances met, Rukia shrank back and for the first time a look of hostility flickered across Orihime’s face.  
  
Chizuru noticed and turned to me to ask, “That’s just unnatural. What happened last night? What happened to my princess?”  
  
Uryuu, who was known for being punctual to a fault, arrived last. Orihime flinched at seeing him, and his expression flickered with self-hate. I grinned up at him, and he flinched away from that sight.  
  
“Jiiiin…” Chizuru changed to sitting backwards on her chair to stare intently at me. “What did you do?”  
  
“… why are you so quick to assign blame, Chizuru dear? Not everything can be my fault.”  
  
“Then look at me in the face and tell me this mess isn’t your fault.”  
  
“…”  
  


-x-

  
LAST NIGHT:  
  
Okay, you know what, screw trying to figure out this dustercluck.  
  
I kicked out with one foot up to the air and tossed a [Harm] in Uryuu’s general direction. His energy arrow, instead of blowing Rukia’s head off, punched through her shoulder instead.  
  
Uryuu grimaced as right arm blazed with needles of pain, like a limb pinched of its blood supply and then suddenly returned. “Tanaka, what are you doing?”  
  
Rukia was rude but overly familiar with Ichigo, calling him by his name, while she called me Sir Tanaka like some sort of minor noble or functionary. Why? Because we talked about Kido, and philosophy, and practical applications, and as a teacher even when Ichigo groused it was clear he respected her knowledge. No one before us talked to her like an equal and valued her opinions. Only her childhood friend Renji could dare to do so, but she had to cut him out of her life on the pressure of her adoptive Clan and its prestige.  
  
However, as much as it was comfortable to speak with each other, that was due to our innate understanding of our emotional distance. We were interested in each other’s thoughts and beliefs, but not really emotionally involved.  
  
“ISSHIIIDAAA!!!” and then Ichigo tackled him. “What do you think you’re doing?!”  
  
But for Ichigo, Rukia for all her abrasiveness was a person that also gave him what he needed. He was a violent protector, but lacked motivation to become a true delinquent, a ‘guardian’ of the school – a person who did not distinguish between the concerns of the dead and the living. He was not a hero, he was very selfish in those he wanted to help, for as a child his desire to help everyone all equally led him straight into the trap of a Hollow.  
  
Rukia gave him purpose, she challenged his desire to protect, and didn’t sugar-coat the truth.  
  
However while Ichigo tackled Uryuu to keep him from trying to shoot at Rukia again, this meant that no one was minding Orihime and the Hollow still in the room! Dammit, Ichigo!  
  
Well apart from Rukia, who was clutched at the ragged wound in her shoulder, pale and aghast.  
  
“ORI…HIME…?” Acidwire rumbled out. Peeking out from the hollow mask split in half was a human eye.  
  
The girl in question gasped and clutched at her soul chain, not understanding what was happening.  
  
“Damn it, Kurosaki!” Uryuu’s voice rang out as the boys were brawling. “Don’t you understand? That Shinigami just murdered Inoue!”  
  
“… what?”  
  
“It’s that chain! Haven’t you noticed it before? All ghosts have a chain that dangles in front of their chests! When that chain finally breaks – that’s when a human being truly dies! Stop defending a murderer in front of me, Ichigo!”  
  
Ichigo let go of his grip on Uryuu’s collar. Then he punched Uryuu in the face. “Then I won’t have  _two_  murderers for classmates!”  
  
Uryuu kneed him in the stomach.  
  


-x-

  
  
PRESENT:  
  
And now, a day later, Ichigo Kurosaki and Uryuu Ishida still looked at each other with barely concealed hostility. As I approached them at the sports area behind the school, that hostility faded only by little.  
  
“Tanaka, I won’t accept a refusal to answer, not this time,” Uryuu said, while ominously touching the frame of his eyeglasses. “What are you? And how do you know the things you know?”  
  
“Unlike you boys, with your massive spiritual reserves and attack power, my abilities run towards the more… subtle. And esoteric. I have occasional glimpses of the future.” I held up a hand to forestall Ichigo’s objection. “No, it’s not always accurate. I can’t control it.”  
  
“I’m not sure I believe that,” Ichigo groused. “But a lot of spiritualists and religious types claim to get visions of the future too. That sounds like a spirit thing, sure.”  
  
“That sounds very unlikely,” was Uryu’s response. “But your other abilities, I believe I must thank you for your actions. I was… blinded by the stresses of the situation.” Then he glanced to Ichigo. “But I have not yet verified your claims last night.”  
  
“What, that you and Ichigo are related?”  
  
“What?!” Ichigo shouted suddenly.  
  
“Are you even  _capable_  of keeping a secret for the sake of social harmony?” Uryuu groaned and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  
  
Ichigo pushed off the wall he was leaning on “You shut up about that. Tanaka, tell me more about that!” he got all up in my face. “I refuse to believe it! We look nothing alike!”  
  
“Ichigo,  _you_  look like your father. Your father took your mother’s name; Masaki Kurosaki was the last of the Kurosaki. She lived in the same house as Ishida’s father.”  
  
Uryuu let out a small hiss. “I know nothing of this.” Grudgingly he admitted “My father has been disavowing our heritage as spirit guardians.” He glanced aside to Ichigo. “He… does not seem to have the spiritual quality necessary for the Quincy arts.”  
  
“What even are you talking about?” Ichigo snorted. “Was that an insult?”  
  
“Ichigo, you’ve seen how Uryuu works. He’s a bow guy. You’re a sword guy. So he can’t train you to do the same things he does.”  
  
He nodded. “See, that makes sense. Now why can’t you talk so clearly like this guy?” he bid Uryuu.  
  
Uryuu pointed to me. “That you think that face over there speaks in a sensible manner makes me doubt your good sense.”  
  
“Now, now, boys, don’t fight. You will need to help each other. We all need to work together. Ishida, you clearly can provide range, I have healing and shielding support, but Ichigo needs to become really good at intercepting attacks. Ishida, apart from the bow formed out of your spiritual energy, as convenient as that may be, don’t your family also use spirit tools?”  
  
“I am mildly disturbed at your level of knowledge about Quincy secrets. But you are correct. It may take some doing to get my hands on said tools, however.”  
  
“Mmm. I will not interfere in that, though one day there are perhaps nine words that will make everything about why you must NOT develop your Quincy powers make sense. You father is only trying to protect you.”  
  
“Then tell me that now.”  
  
“Ah-ah. Didn’t you just earlier scold me for not being able to keep secrets?” I wagged my finger at him.“ It doesn’t feel like the right time to say it.”  
  
Uryuu sniffed. “I could make it a condition of my assistance.”  
  
“I am calling your bluff. Go ahead and walk away! Orihime literally already died once before. If we die, we die heroes’ deaths, and your pride won’t let you stew in your spite anyway.”  
  
“Hmf.” Uryuu looked away. He looked like he hated that part of clairvoyance. Secrets were important things to people. With such a gross violation of privacy… how can you ever trust anyone who takes your secrets so easily?  
  
Unlike Ichigo, who could simply brush it aside as the fact that he has weird friends, and he has nothing to be ashamed of in the first place, a more thoughtful brooding person like Uryuu would get his thoughts all running around in circle as to  _what does it all mean_  and  _what does he mean_  and  _what does he mean to do_?  
  
I looked at Ichigo for comparison, and his determined expression held no such internal agony. Just let him have a Seele Schneider and he’d be just fine. Heh. Pity [no ordinary kitchen knife would do](http://www.pcnchef.com/top-picks/german-kitchen-knives/).  
  


-x-

  
  
  
LAST NIGHT:  
  
Let us return to last night. And while the boys were temporarily distracted beating each other’s faces in, Orihime looked down and hesitantly grasped her soul chain.  
  
“I’m… I’m dead?”  
  
“I am sorry. I am so sorry…” Rukia whispered. “I made a mistake… this… this is all my fault. And now… there is only one thing I can do for you.” Rukia got up while still clutching her bleeding shoulder, and raised her sword.  
  
Orihime’s eyes widened again. “No!” She opened her arms stepped in front of the Hollow.  
  
“Miss Inoue! Not a few moments ago, this Hollow was trying to kill you! It is irrational, to give your life for it!” Rukia grit her teeth. “A Shinigami does not kill Hollows, we purify and send its soul out to find peace in the afterlife. Why would you do this?!”  
  
“If that’s so… then… my brother would really be gone.”  
  
“A soul can’t stay here in the mortal world… your brother is a Hollow now, that is what happens when attachment that can no longer be fulfilled chains a soul down. In time, what was once loved becomes an object of hate, to protect means to kill those who the protected choose to be with as they move on, and in time, becoming the first victim!”  
  
Orihime looked down at her body. Her attention focused on the star-shaped hairpin she wore, and then touched the item still on her spirit form. She smiled.  
  
Acidwire’s massive maw opened and chomped down on her head.  
  
“INOUE!” Ichigo and Uryuu shouted as one.  
  
Ichigo got off Uryuu and began to run at the monster. Uryuu swiftly remade his bow and shot off another arrow.  
  
The Hollow, apparently distracted by their yelling, turned around and put Orihime in front of the incoming arrow. Uryuu only had a moment to look panicked, before Rukia managed to intercept and slash the Quincy arrow out of the air. She grimaced at the pain it caused to her other shoulder.  
  
“Ishida stop helping!” Ichigo roared, before tackling Acidwire in the midsection.  
  
 _“Ichigo! The use of reishi spells in combat – Kido! The way of fighting with the zanpakto – Zanjutsu! But do not think a Shinigami is left defenseless without a sword. Before any other weapon, your own body is your weapon!”_ Rukia had in her charmingly arrogant way declared this a day ago.  _“The way of fighting with empowered blows – Hakuda!”_  
  
Ichigo punched at the Hollow’s serpentine body, creating a flash of light on impact and a visibly deformed pit in its red scaled abdomen. A flash of satisfaction passed across his face, his lips opened in desperate achievement.  
  
Ichigo! You’re messing with Chad’s portfolio!  
  
Then a red fist the size of his body smashed him into the floor, and through it. The wooden splinters that sprang up into the air were stained red by blood.  
  
Jesus Christ, why was everything going so wrong?! Acidwire shouldn’t have been this strong!  
  
I needed to know only one thing.  
  
“Ichigo! Is Tatsuki here somewhere?!”  
  
Oh right. Still with his face in the floor. I discreetly threw a [Heal] over his way, and then another towards Rukia.  
  
The only bright spot in the whole thing was that it was a school night.  
  


-x-

  
  
PRESENT:  
  
I met Tatsuki at the school nurse’s office. Orihime lay sleeping upon a bed. She looked so cute and peaceful and defenseless, somewhat like a cat sleeping belly-up.  
  
“She just collapsed in the middle of the hallway," Tatsuki said to me with a dubious frown. "She told me this morning that if this ever happened, I should call you.”  
  
I looked down at Orihime’s sleeping body, then up at the air. Where Orihime’s ghost form sheepishly dangled her cut soul chain in her hands. I sighed.  
  
I went over to Orihime’s body and pressed my hands over the center of her chest. [Heal.] Her soul chain extended slightly. Now I just had to surreptitiously reach out and weld both halves together. This walking out of her own body business was really going to be a hassle, I could predict. What about when she’s at home? Her body would finally die when it forgets to breathe.  
  
Tatsuki leaned closer. “You know, if you were anyone else I’d think you were just using this as an excuse to cop a feel.”  
  
I raised a palm in her direction. “Would you like me to put a hand on your chest instead?”  
  
Then, for no explicable reason, my hand moved a bit forward to come into contact. Boing.  
  
I looked at my hand, then accusingly to the air beside it.  
  
Orihime, you have chosen a poor time to start becoming a filthy shipper.  
  
There was only time to notice a speedy fist heading for the side of my face through my peripheral vision.  
  


-x-

  
  
Orihime and I? Not close friends.  
  
But Tatsuki?  
  
I was not so callous a friend as to risk her dying on a scenario I had seen before, to blindly trust that this Hollow would only stab her and throw her aside, unconscious, in order to devour its most beloved sister as its first kill as a Hollow.  
  
Unfortunately it was only a few weeks since my birthday that it made sense why this life of mine was engineered this way. In my free time, I managed to find out where Orihime would go to speak over her brother’s grave.  
  
One of the first things I did upon achieving knowledge of what could be and what I could prevent, was to go there and introduce myself to the empty air. I spoke to the headstone that I was Orihime’s classmate, and that when she talks about her life in school – it’s not that she’s bragging she’s doing better now that he wasn’t around. It’s to keep him from worrying. Orihime is fine. She’s doing just fine. It should be the wish of the departed for those they left behind to take their own sweet time, a long-ass time, before they all meet again in the afterlife.  
  
Sure, it might be unfair that his own life was cut short, but there’s a whole other life in the afterlife, you know? Hanging around here… it’s not really the best place to be. That’s why ghosts are tragic characters, when they’re not spiteful monsters haunting places. Monsters exist only to be destroyed.  
  
There are people ready, willing, and able to destroy monsters like that.  
  
Every weekend, I would hang out there, idly recount Orihime’s days outside of her narrow point of view, talk about how Tatsuki was responsible for Orihime having a school life that wasn’t outright hell (which, seriously, even parents and guardians would have difficulty correcting), and how Ichigo wasn’t such a bad teen really.  
  
And then several days ago, during that fateful evening with Ichigo and Rukia, I acquired [Conjure Spirit].  
  
I cast it over Sora Inoue’s grave. He wasn’t there.  
  
I wondered if he sensed I was perfectly willing to end him right there rather than risk it with Tatsuki.  
  
  


-x-

  
  
LAST NIGHT:  
  
“Hey! Obvious distraction here!” I shouted while waving my arms. “SORA INOUE! REMEMBER ME?!”  
  
Acidwire turned in my direction, and growled through its teeth “… YOU…”  
  
Oh good. “Yeah, me! I told you this would happen, idiot! Killing and eating Orihime won’t bring you any peace!”  
  
“… YOU ARE THE IDIOT. I NEVER WANTED TO HURT MY ORIHIME.”  
  
“… is that Jin-kun?” Orihime asked from inside Acidwire’s mouth.  
  
“Wait, what.”  
  
“Orihime! You’re alive!” Ichigo said breathlessly from below.  
  
Uryuu strode imperiously into the scene. “Orihime’s dead. She’s just a soul now, Ichigo. That Shinigami killed her.”  
  
Acidwire’s tail reared up to slap down on Ichigo. The teen managed to pull himself out of the hole and roll away just in time.  
  
Acidwire pulled Orihime out of its mouth and held her out at arms-length. She looked none the worse for wear, only crying and confused. With its other hand, slowly and agonizingly, the Hollow tried to peel off its face.  
  
Exposing the human head of Sora Inoue behind the bone mask.  
  
In a more normal (if still oddly echoing) voice, he said “Orihime…”  
  
“Brother… I… I’m sorry. The last time we spoke, it sounded like I hated you. I’m sorry…” she touched her hairpin again. “The girls at school were teasing me about it, that’s why I took it out on you. The last thing I ever told you was that I hated you – I didn’t mean it!”  
  
Sora’s face showed only calm acceptance. It was still incredibly weird to see such a tiny head on that monstrous body. “Are you happy with your life?”  
  
“I… I’m sorry. I guess I am. My friends are helping me… it’s not that I’m not lonely for you anymore, but I think…” she trailed off. “I would be okay. You don’t need to worry so much about me anymore.”  
  
“Happy enough that you’d refuse if I asked you to die with me?”  
  
“…”  
  
“We could be together again in the afterlife right now, Orihime. Just as when we made a new life when we ran away from our parents, we can make a new life with the both of us. Are you going to let me go away alone, Orihime? Do you really need all these other people?”  
  
“Um… um…” Orihime cutely twiddled her fingers. “They say I’m dead now anyway, so…”  
  
“Ahem,” I coughed. “Yeah, no.”  
  
I drove two extended index and middle fingers towards Orihime’s body.  **[Conjure Spirit.]**  Then another towards Orihime’s spirit form.  **[Conjure Spirit]**. Both sundered halves of her Soul Chain extended and spiraled around in mid-air towards me.  
  
“Who cares what you need?!” I shouted up at her as I grabbed her chains. “Tatsuki wants you to stay, so, Princess, you’re staying! You don’t have to NEED other people, but friends are there because you WANT to be with them! You and your brother know that even family bonds can become toxic, so you should know that shouldn’t stand in the way of a new and happy life. Just because you live one way of life doesn’t mean you should reject the way other people want to live!”  
  
I pressed the split links in between my palms and visualized a furnace inside.  
  
 **[Heal.] [Heal.] [Heal.]**  
  
I could do this, because Soul Chains are not physical organs. If cutting them would mean the body suffers a heart attack and dies permanently, Past-Me argued that Ichigo should have died completely when trying to become a Shinigami. So there was probably some time before actual death; even [brain death from lack of oxygen required up to six minutes](http://science.howstuffworks.com/life/inside-the-mind/human-brain/brain-death1.htm).  
  
I tugged at her chains, testing that the welding worked. Rukia and Uryuu, understanding the impossibility of what I’d just done, boggled at the sight. Understandable, since the closest to this would be Orihime’s own healing powers that worked via turning back time.  
  
Then I added “Besides, you could always just start a new family with Ichigo.”  
  
The top of Orihime’s head almost metaphorically blew off like a volcano erupting. There was smoke and everything. She collapsed in her brother’s massive hand, fainted.  
  
“DIIIIEEEEE!” Acidwire roared. The Hollow just tossed Orihime aside, put its mask back on, and spewed toxic gases all over the place.  
  
“Sir Tanaka, what the hell!” Rukia yelled.  
  


-x-

  
  
PRESENT:  
  
I found Rukia just sitting around on the school rooftop. She looked up, bleary-eyed, at my approach.  
  
“I am a failure,” she announced with a heavy sigh.  
  
“Now, now, there’s no reason for that sort of quitter talk.”  
  
She chuckled. “That we are not all dead due to my gross incompetence is only thanks to you, Sir Tanaka.” Her eyes narrowed. “To think that your natural healing Kido could reconnect Soul Chains. That trespasses on the domain of Gods, be careful now. As a Shinigami, even I say that you should not allow others – even Shinigami, to know of this. It is too dangerous an ability.”  
  
Aahahaaa. Yes, it is scary, even if you’re only trying to obliquely reference your Mad Science division.  
  
“In fact, were we not allies now, I would suggest eliminating that Ishida person to preserve secrecy.”  
  
Whee Rukia was certainly not holding a grudge over being shot in the shoulder, no siree. (cough cough) Weird, considering she was able to brush aside Uryuu’s totally retarded incident with the Hollow Bait in what Past-Me knew of canon. Maybe it was because Uryuu hadn’t explained yet why he hated Shinigami, and then just showed up at school this morning being all McSmugface.  
  
She sighed again and palmed her face. “I can report  _none of this_  in the first place. I would be the worst embarrassment to the Kuchiki family in the ever. EVER.”  
  
I nodded. “As much as you think my abilities are unprecedented, I didn’t even think what happened yesterday was possible. I thought Zanpakto were materialized weapons made out of your souls, like Quincy weapons.”  
  
“Zanpakto can be repaired for as long as their guard is not destroyed, it only requires time, reiryoku, and attention from their owners. They do remain physical objects, however,” she sighed. ”I do not enjoy feeling so diminished.”  
  
Clacking her tongue, she added “I do not know what Quincy are, though I did notice that from Ishida’s actions last night. Intriguing, when we have time we should look into how that might function for the two of you-“  
  
“Unfortunately it seems to be a bloodline thing. And since Uryuu is the last pure-blooded Quincy, it’s not happening.”  
  
“Pity.” I could tell she was just referring to the lack of supernatural ability. Fortunately, despite her manga-loving ways, Rukia was still pure as freshly fallen snow about that sort of media. There are few things in life I’d fight to protect, that innocence is one of them.  
  
I decided then to introduce her to my little sister, they could enjoy watching sentai and tokusatsu shows together. My little Miyako was embarrassed about liking such boyish things, a little positive confirmation from an older girl would do her good.  
  


-x-

  
  
LAST NIGHT:  
  
I didn’t bother to put up a defensive [Shield], and just ducked. Uryuu just blur-stepped out of the way, the fast bastard, while Ichigo covered his face with his shirt sleeves and ran backwards. I found Rukia on the floor with me, we stared in confusion at each other for a few moments, then as the gas started to rise she used it as a cover to slide up and slice up at the Hollow.  
  
The Hollow blocked her with its face.  
  
Wait, to be clearer, it blocked with its bone face-mask. After all, we had already seen it remove its face before.  
  
And then everything just exploded.  
  
While we were all groggy and our brains shaking inside our skulls, we heard Sora Inoue say in a much more normal voice this time, “I can’t leave yet. I can’t leave Orihime. I’m not handing Orihime to you! Any of you! You can’t protect her – only I can!”  
  
I looked up just in time to see him kick a still-on-the-ground Rukia in the ribs, sending her flying away to crash into a wall. He picked something off the ground, and then literally flew away.  
  
Wait. Did- did that just happen?  
  
I just remembered, earlier, Acidwire… removed his mask.  
  
Oh shit did we just _make an Arrancar?_  
  
Oh shit did that Arrancar just run away after  _stealing Rukia’s zanpakto?_  
  
I didn’t know that was even possible!  
  


-x-

  
And then, peeling ourselves off the remains of our home-wrecking ineptitude, we heard a tap-tap-tapping coming closer in the night.  
  
“Well, well, isn’t this such a strange sight. What energetic youngsters we have these days…”  
  
And then there arrived [a certain suspicious person](http://bleach.itudia.com/images/kisuke_01.jpg) wearing a green patterned hat, oddly archaic clothes that looked more like green pajamas these days, and wooden clogs on his feet. Tap-tap-walking, with his cane punctuating each step, in that street that suspiciously no one was out to notice all the commotion despite the needed sleeping hours.  
  
“It sounds like you youngsters need some help from an honest businessman,” Kisuke Urahara said with a shadowed grin.


	12. 3.2 Boogaloo

**3.2 Substitute Shinigami Mk2 Electric Boogaloo**

 

  

 

We took a few days to get ourselves settled. It’s not like we could follow any Hollow to Hueco Mundo, our only hope was that Sora Inoue would remain obsessive enough about Orihime to stay around in this mortal world. As a rashly developed Arrancar, we could only pray that he didn’t get hungry or be taken out by another Hollow.

And yet we had another problem, that Karakura lacked a Shinigami to protect its citizens. Just yesterday we had to tackle Rukia to the ground to keep her from sending a Hell Butterfly to Soul Society, reporting her guilt.

“Let me go, you bunch of jackanapes! I can no longer be so selfish!” she was screaming. “Though it would bring shame to the name of the Kuchiki family, allow me to take the punishment I am due! It is a greater dishonor for others to suffer in order to hide my sins! Such a coward… !”

Then she punched Ichigo in the face.

“Such cowardice… I can’t be such a coward anymore.” Her shoulders shook as she grabbed ahold of his shirt and rested her head on his chest. She was on the verge of crying, but also couldn’t allow herself to weaken any further. In canon she was able to go full six months hiding around in the mortal world, what happened to make her so… resolved? Suicidal? Willing to prove her detractors right?

Ichigo looked helplessly up at me. Rukia sniffed, pushed off him, and her face had returned to its usual imperious expression. “Do not worry. Shortly an experienced Shinigami will take over the protection of this area.”

“That’s bullshit!” Ichigo replied. “Don’t be in such a hurry to throw us away, midget! Don’t be too full of yourself and try to take all the blame!”

“I am not…” Rukia winced. “I am not throwing you away. In fact, the opposite.”

Uryuu made a small dismissive noise. “How facetious. So this is how far a Shinigami’s self-confidence goes. As much as I hate to admit it, Kurosaki is right. Just because you lack the strength to persevere does not mean the rest of us should be forced to surrender. We are also partly responsible for this inconvenient state of affairs. You lack the right or the power to prevent us from making up for our missteps.”

Orihime just looked at Ichigo, then Uryuu, then up at me, and back to Rukia. Her lips pursed up into a determined (> ^ < ). “Don’t go, Rukia-chan!”

Rukia could only palm her face and laugh helplessly.

I took a sip of tea. I guess the difference is not… that first few months of soul-crushing loneliness? She was willing to suffer so much just so we wouldn’t be hurt at all. Unlike the story I knew, in which she had to hide and put up a false front for so long, she sat there with people who accepted her unnatural existence. Not a Kuchiki, nor a jumped-up slum rat, just Rukia. She lacked the strength to protect us. She had failed us, but to run away from her sins… well, that would just be too easy.

“What a lovely rapport. How rare in this era to see young people so resolute!”

“JESUS CHRIST!” I yelped in surprise as I suddenly felt Kisuke Urahara’s breath on the back of my neck. “Fuck’s sakes, man! Why you gotta be so creepy?!” I screamed as I turned around and rammed my teacup on his head. The cup and the hot water bounced off his hat.

Of course the damn thing would be waterproof. He grinned at me, his shadowy eyes showing not a hint of amusement. “I hope you youngsters maintain this resolve to the bitter end.”

This man was perhaps the smartest man in all of existence, a much more frightening mastermind than even Sousuke Aizen. He could crush me with effortless ease.

He leaned away from me, opened his fan to hide his face as if he was Zhuge Liang, and complained “You children are treating my shop as an inn now.”

He squinted to the side as his oldest friend, the impressively well muscled and mustached [Tessai Tsukabishi](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Tessai_Tsukabishi) moved while kneeling to offer me a fresh cup of tea like the ultimate super butler that he was always meant to be. Swirling his fan about, he pointed “How did you even get Tessai to start doing that?”

“Because he’s cute/Because I’m cute,” we spoke at the same time.

Kisuke snapped his fan shut and sighed. A master strategist as him could not argue with that.

His eyes glinted as his gaze passed from Uryuu to me. Silently he conveyed, ‘how more impressive it was to be able to persuade a Quincy to keep coming to my shop’.

I shrugged as if to say ‘ignorance makes brave men of us all’.

And then we both chuckled in a soft and sinister manner, him hiding his mouth behind his fan and me hiding my mouth behind my teacup.

“So creepy…” Ichigo murmured.

  

 

-x-

  
As much as Uryuu didn’t trust Kisuke Urahara, a black market shop was the best place to avoid the eyes of the Shinigami. He did fear that the shopkeeper would sell us out for profit, but then Rukia explained that then Urahara would lose the generous schedule of loan payments. As long as Rukia stayed in the mortal world, she pulled a regular salary.

A gigai was expensive, but not  _that_  expensive. Looking around at the crappy little shop and its crappy merchandise and no customers, Uryuu slowly agreed. It was doubtful that the Shinigami would even reward informers. In fact, this being a shame to a noble house, it was more likely that they would seek to silence those involved.

That aside, we managed to procure two gigai from Urahara.  It turned out that Tessai and I had a common interest with infomercials so I got a discount in exchange for helping them procure suspicious nutritional supplements from Germany. Tessai was easily impressed by slick packaging, and if Japan had a reputation for high technology and innovation, right now if there’s a country other than America who could claim to have more cutting edge research it is Germany. Kisuke was just going along with the flow, apparently just curious to see where our shenanigans would go.

At the moment Orihime sat looking at herself. Ironically a gigai had a stronger hold on her soul than her own living body. This was the solution we found for the risk of Orihime accidentally walking out of her own body again, maybe while crossing the street or something, causing her to be run over by a truck and her soul transmigrated to a parallel world where she would by sheer coincidence claim the throne of the Demon Queen and come to rule the world with an accidentally ruthless fist and a scatter-brained mind that would be mistaken by others as possessing unfathomable cunning.

“Where even do you get this garbage?” Ichigo asked.

Realizing that I’d accidentally used my outside voice for my internal narration, I pointed at Orihime and shouted “That is perfectly plausible!”

She glanced back at me and nodded. “Un.”

So cute.

Reign over them all on your throne of skulls, Orihime!

  

 

-x-

  
I’d argued some days ago to bring in Tatsuki into this thing, so she could better watch over Orihime even at home, but was overruled. It was dangerous enough as is, she’s just going to have to worry why her best friend was experiencing fainting spells. Considering that  _Rukia_  was also known for this, our classmates were wondering if there was something contagious.

I’d explained to the class “Rukia’s problem is that she has too little blood sugar and Orihime’s problem is that she has too much blood sugar.”

“Sounds legit.”

“Plausible.”

“Sure why not.”

Chizuru leapt at Orihime shouting she was going to ‘suck some of that sweetness out’ and got knocked the fugg out by Tatsuki.

 

 

 

-x-

Uryuu Ishida stood in front of the dingy [Urahara Shop](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Urahara_Shop), nestled between two more modern apartment buildings. It was early in the morning and the shop was still closed. It was a Sunday. A soft breeze blew through the scene, tugging at his hair and shirt sleeves. Uryuu pushed up at his glasses.

The sliding doors opened, and Ichigo and I walked out. We were both slouching and had our hands in our pockets. We swaggered over and flanked him on either side.

“You got the goods?” Ichigo drawled out.

“It better be the high-quality… stuff,” I added with a sneer.

Uryuu sighed. “This was a mistake.”

We frog-marched him inside, and to his surprise already waiting there were Rukia and Orihime. “Miss Orihime…” Uryuu nodded in greeting, completely ignoring Rukia.

Mulishly Ichigo continued “Enough with the chit-chat. Show us the goods.”

I nodded. “Yeah, make with the product, compadre.”

More for the girls’ eager eyes than our thugboy act, Uryuu brought out a strange flat piece of metal. It looked like the handle of a knife, with a straight-edged cutout at the end to store onto hangers. Uryuu clearly didn’t appreciate me pointing that out, and demonstrated how the space was meant to fit two fingers.

“This is [a Seele Schnieder](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3K2-THjgoQg), and it is the only Quincy weapon that possesses a blade.”

“What blade?” Ichigo asked. “Are you blind or something? This is the opposite of having a blade!”

“Your ignorance appalls me, Kurosaki. Learn to look beyond surface appearances.”

“So it’s not like a zanpakto at all…” Rukia mused. “Instead of something physical, it requires condensed reishi to shape and maintain.” From her tone of voice she clearly didn’t think much of it compared to a Shinigami’s soul cutter. “What other special abilities does it have?”

“Why should I tell you?!” Uryuu groused back in return.

“It’s a disposable weapon,” I explained. “Interesting. Good job smuggling this out, Ishida. I understand it’s usually meant to be used as an arrow, I had a vision of that. But for Ichigo who has stupid amounts of reiatsu and no way to manipulate it… do you understand what this means?”

“Only if he possess any talent whatsoever to the Quincy arts-“ Uryuu quickly had to disrupt whatever good thing may be said about Ichigo.

I grabbed the Seele Schneider and slapped it onto Ichigo’s palm.

“It means laser sword!”

“What.”

I guided Ichigo’s hands to hold the long shaft of the Seele Schnieder properly. Two handed grip. Firm. Straight arms! Hold it right around groin level, in front of [the Root Chakra point](http://www.chakras.info/root-chakra/). “Infuse this rod with the dream of all mankind, Ichigo!”

“What even are you saying-...“ he replied blandly. Meanwhile Uryuu grimaced and put a hand over his own eyes.

“Laser sword! Laser sword!” I began chanting.

Soon enough, Rukia and Orihime joined in. “Laser sword! Laser sword!”

“Laser sword!”

"Laser sword!"

"... beam saber, you utter philistines," Uryuu muttered under his breath, still with his face turned away.

"Laser sword!"

“Uoooohhhh!!!” Ichigo began to try and force his reiatsu into the Quincy soul cutter. His head wobbled from side to side.

Rukia, Orihime and I were in a semi-circle semi-crouch facing Ichigo, and pumped our fists up and down as we kept on chanting “Laser sword! Laser sword!” Our eyes were shining with anticipation.

His brows stitched together in furious concentration. Just like we theorized, this should be no different from trying to infuse a baseball bat with his spirit power. But to break through human limits takes equal amounts of determination and imagination!

“Nhhgh! Ugh. Huaaaaaahhhh!”

"Laser swooooorrrdddd!"

Fisshk-whuuummmm. A glowing blue blade erupted out from between his fingers. His hips convulsed forward as he threw his head back yelling in triumph.

“Yaay!”

“… I regret this immediately,” said Uryuu.

  

 

-x-

 

Now that Ichigo had the ability to meaningfully defend himself, Rukia was somewhat disappointed to see me not participate in the Hollow hunting and the search for Sora Inoue. I had other important business to take care of.

I entered the Tanaka Family living room and entreated “Tart me up, ma!”

My mother turned away from the soap opera on the TV. Her narrow-eyed gaze was full of calculating intensity.

 

 

 


	13. 3.3 Bombastic

  
Chizuru Honsho had a hobby of people-watching. Sitting at a café, slowly eating cake and coffee, now and then perching her chin on her palms, she gave out a somber and intellectual impression utterly at odds with how much of a perverted lunatic she truly was inside.  
  
There were only three kinds of people who found it interesting to just sit and watch passers-by: Philosophers, artists, and hobos. Chizuru was none of these three, but felt she had something in common with all of them. Although she was resolved to force herself onto other people’s sensibilities instead of them forcing their own selfish standards on her, she did feel some alienation now and then.  
  
Perhaps if her best friend wasn’t such an explosive metrosexual she wouldn’t have acquired this habit. Sometimes she needed to reacquaint herself with what the world considered  _normal_ in order to act beyond its grasp.  
  
Chizuru heard a pained screech and a bang. She turned to see a car that was about to park had accidentally rammed into the back of another parked car. A man walked into a tree. A boy and his girlfriend stopped and stared. What caused this calamity? Just [a pretty woman, walking down the street](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gqj_uc3KGTA).  
  
She was wearing exactly that white dress, but how much she truly looked like Julia Roberts was hidden by her black hat and large sunglasses. Her lips were wide and red in a confident smile as she strutted down the street. Her steps were swift but sure on her high-heeled shoes, her hips swaying only barely but it drew the eyes.  
  
Chizuru’s brows furrowed. Beautiful, yes. She put a hand over her chest to check – yes, her heart was hammering in response, but the sight failed to prod her usual lustful fires.  
  
To her surprise, the pretty woman entered the café. She stood by the entrance for a moment, and the waitresses all but fell over to be the first to welcome such an obviously refined and well-to-do person. They blushed as she smiled and gently refused their offers for a table all to herself.  
  
The woman went over to Chizuru’s table and asked, “Would you mind if I sit here?”  
  
“…I-it’s okay.” Chizuru blushed like the pure young maiden she most assuredly was  _not_.

As the other took the seat, she squirmed in place. Chizuru seemed like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, so she just had to express it with a lonely gasp “I don’t know you… but I think I love you.”  
  
“What a coincidence, so do I.”  
  
Chizuru laughed more freely now. Well of course, if she looked _that_ good she would be narcissistic as heck too! Surprisingly, knowing that the beauty in front of her had such a flaw only made her more attractive. Instead of a fairy, she was a real woman – obtainable, desirable, if only somewhat out of her league for now.

But not out of her reach.  
  
“You misunderstand me,” the woman said, and rested her chin on her fingers laced together. With her face thus framed, she added, “The one I love the most in the world is you.”  
  
“…what.”

All right, there were certainly people but such hobbies, but even for Chizuru this was too sudden!  
  
The pretty lady began to croon “The reason why I get up out of bed,  
The reason why the sun shines in my room… is you~♪”  
  
Even though her voice wasn’t loud, it drew attention. Everyone’s heads turned towards that little table.  
  
“The rainclouds break apart,   
and summer comes back to my heart… because of you~♫”  
  
Someone serenading in the middle of the day? And it’s  _that_ person? Why… why would such a person make such a romantic gesture to that girl? She’s pretty, but certainly not  _that_ pretty!   
  
“The angels can sing to me,  
and the fairies lavish their praise,  
but the one I like the most in the world… is you~♬”  
  
Is… is this bullying? What… what is wrong with this world?!  
  
Chizuru bowed, but even that couldn’t hide how red her cheeks were. They were redder than even her own hair. “A-and what do you like about me?”  
  
The pretty woman tilted her head slightly. “Your…  _personality_ , I guess?”  
  
Chizuru nodded slowly. “Hmm. Hmm. How encouraging.”

Then she slammed her fists on the table. “There’s only one person who would dare say that sort of thing to me!”  
  
She jabbed forwards, her fingertips bouncing off the large ambler sunglasses. “JIIIIIN! That’s you! That’s you again, isn’t it?! The reason I can’t trust a woman to approach me on her own in this life is because of YOUUUUU!”  
  
“Tee-hee ~❤”  
  
“Don’t  _tee-hee_  me, you biiitch! That’s why that outfit has puffed shoulders, doesn’t it – so you make your arms seem longer and look taller. And dem hips, dayum! Are you wearing a corset?” Her fingers drifted lower. “You have breasts! How are you doing this?!” She began poking at the woman’s chest.  
  
“Aaahn~!” The woman couldn’t help but to squeal out.  
  
Chizuru frowned and decided to just reach out and grab some handfuls. “Bouncy, yet firm,” she murmured as she squeezed. “So much like the real thing. They’re even warm! Do you have a new silicone recipe?!”

“Ahem.”  
  
A hand slapped down on Chizuru’s shoulders. That hand was attached to a blue sleeves, and as she looked up following that arm, the rest of the blue uniform was revealed. The Tokyo Police Officer’s patch glinted.

The policeman had still had a young rounded and rather nondescript face, and his eyes lacked any anger. Instead, there was an eagerness to be the hero in them. “Young lady, maybe this a conversation we had best continue at the police station.”  
  
“CHEESE AND CRACKERS!” Chizuru yelled, flipped the table, tactical-rolled backwards and skedaddled forthwith out the café door. The pretty woman leaned back in surprise, narrowly avoiding her white dress being stained by the flying cake and coffee. She nodded a few times, impressed. Chizuru already had a lot of experience evading capture. She was a weapon to surpass Metal Gear!

The policeman was about to pursue, but the pretty woman grabbed his arm. She gently shook her head, no. His expression was just about to boiling, as if the contact with her hand over his wrist separated only by a flimsy layer of cloth set a fire in his soul.  
  
“Let it go,” she whispered. “Instead, tell me your name.”  
  
“Ji-jinto Tabuchi, ma’am!”  
  
“Jinto, hm? How easy to remember. Good boy. If I ever need anything in the future, I will come find you.”  
  
The young police officer began crying. “Mother, father, bringing your son into this world was not a waste!”

 

-x-

  
Okay, enough with the cloy games. It should be obvious that the ‘pretty woman’ was me under the influence of two stacked castings of [Purity of Water]. My base Beauty was already a high 14. A single casting brought it to 18, enough to make anyone fall in love at first sight, and another pushed it to practically superhuman levels. Any more and I would have been so pretty that it would start feeling wrong or become outright mind control.  
  
I left the house with my mother pounding the floor. Though satisfied with the result of her makeup artistry, she was shouting, “It’s not fair! I am in despair! My  ** _son_** _’s_  incomparable Beauty has left me in despair!”  
  
That was the reason of this day’s tests. I needed to know.  
  
I am a person with an RPG-like set of abilities. If I continue with this… would I start treating other people like NPCs? Worse, does this mean this world would become more and more flat like an RPG world? Is my existence a threat to Free Will?  
  
Chizuru and my mother could look past it. The fog of adoration does help make this a pretty effective disguise, if a bit too obvious. It won’t save me from Shinigami and Hollows at all, so it can hardly be called a  _defensive_ technique.   
  
…In truth, trolling Chizuru was the whole reason for wasting one of my priceless spell slots.   
  
Totally worth it. No regrets.

-x-

  
Yesterday after talking with Rukia and Urahara for a bit, I found out that Hollow-hunting was not really a sustainable activity. It greatly depended on Soul Society sending mission updates with their soul radar. The reason why Rukia could get away with spending months in Karakura Town out of contact was because Hollow attacks were actually quite rare. Even though Karakura was presently the spot where the boundary between the realms was the weakest, this was the reason it didn’t have a Shinigami permanently stationed.

Of course, the number of Hollow attacks was purely arbitrary. If Aizen wanted to drown us in angry ghosts to test Ichigo’s progress, nothing we could do about that. My main problem was that I lacked a wiki inside my head. I had no idea when things would start happening according to canon, in as much as I might have already derailed the whole thing.

“Kisuke Urahara. You are much smarter than I am. Or anyone else, really. I have no plan whatsoever. If I could provide you with information, could I trouble you to devise a stratagem out of them?”

“… my apologies. I am just having difficulty taking you seriously in that getup,” Urahara said blandly. His dark sleep-deprived panda eyes were totally judging me.

I preened shamelessly. “Man, Soul Society has a whole load of ‘interesting’ characters. Just a skilled transvestite should be nothing special to you.”

“No, there really is something odd about you.” We were alone in a room, Kisuke and I, except for a black cat nearby. Though it was in a napping pose, it was also staring at me with eerie intensity. Its eyes flicked now and then. “I just can’t tell. Your reiatsu level is barely above the norm.”

“I’ve heard that those with a sufficient level of reiatsu can cause people to die just from being in their presence.  Or that if you are so  powerful, even those with the ability to sense spiritual pressure, your presence could roll past being overwhelmingly obvious and straight into invisible, much the same way normal humans lacking spiritual pressure can’t perceive Plus and Minus souls.”  

“That is… somewhat true. Where did you hear this?”

“[Titty Kubo](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tite_Kubo).”

“…” Urahara just narrowed his eyes at me. Though there was no hostility in them, it was like he could slice me in half with just a look.

I slapped my palm down onto the tatami mats. “From a man with a healthy appreciation for bountiful breasts!”

Urahaha let out a lenient huff. “It saddens me to know that you’re not even really lying.”

 

-x-

 

So it turned out that while Urahara, a Captain-level Shinigami, could resist the effect of Beauty 20, he couldn’t detect the magic that was making it. It wouldn’t save me from strong enemies. If Aizen was monitoring us, now that this group of teens have been observed being repeat customers to Urahara’s shop, I could only count on a mastermind being curious about what another mastermind is trying to do with these bunch of meddling kids as catspaws.

I decided to keep walking around town. But at Beauty 18 instead of Beauty 20. It would cause less accidents that way.

The great difference between [Purity of Water] and [Charm] was that though the former was only good for forging great first impressions, it at least had an area of effect. Using disguises means repeated new first impressions.

As expected, sometimes being a beautiful young lady is a curse. Karakura had several groups of bored young hoodlums, and only a few of them had the good or realistic sense of self-confidence not to accost what looks like a young, rich lady out on her own.  
  
I smiled. These sunglasses hid my eyes. My ability to direct [Harm] relied upon line of sight. This disguised how I could look and deliver [Harm] straight into the testicles of those who annoy me.  
  
A young thug collapsed just as he was about to approach me, foaming in the mouth.  
  
“Such a great beauty to knock someone out in her passing!” gasped a random passer-by.  
  
Well, knocking out hooligans doesn’t give me any XP, so I it was not like I’d be treating them as NPCs. I made a note to do something about their abundance though. Ichigo and Chad might not care about territory, but it sure would be convenient to have some patsies to boss around.  
  
I decided to go into the more vacant side-streets. As I neared an intersection, I saw a stuffed toy running around on its own, [being chased by an athletic girl](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Ry%C5%8D_Kunieda). It was my classmate, Ryo Kunieda, a slim and tall girl with straight hair and a mole under one eye. One of those absurdly talented people, being second in academics exams and also able to get into the nationals for Karakura’s track and field team.

Wait, is that Kon? [A rogue mod soul possessing a doll](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/File:Ep50KarakuraKing.png)…? Ichigo’s not a Shinigami, it’s Orihime that needs a gigai. Why is Kon even a thing?  
  
…well I suppose Kon literally has always been a thing. We needed to deal with Kon and the mod souls issue eventually, but artificial souls in their inactivated forms were like little candy pellets until placed into the mouth of a container that could move. Empty, soulless bodies like gigai, of course – but also stuffed toys. Spiritual energy suffusing the softness could make it move more fluidly and grip things.

I knelt down on one knee, my white dress tightening around my form. I opened my arms out and said “Come here, boy. Over here…”

The little lion stuffed toy instantly veered away from the chase as if gravitationally attracted towards my inviting hug. Kon launched into my embrace and the little lion face began nuzzling my (fake) breasts.

“Oh. Is that creature yours?” Ryo slid to a stop nearby, not even winded from having to run thirty meters in less than five seconds.

“Creature is one way to put it, I guess.”

Her friend, the more plain-faced but childish-looking [Michiru Ogawa](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Michiru_Ogawa) arrived a few moments later. She was gasping for breath. “Just… because something runs, doesn’t mean you…  you have to chase it.”

Ryo crossed her arms. “If something has the guts to run in front of me, then I have to accept!” She turned back towards me and the doll at my chest. “So it is a cat in a suit after all. Rich people do have strange hobbies.”

Michiru began bowing. “I’m sorry! We’re sorry! Please excuse my friend! Sorry for troubling you!” She hurriedly began to pull her friend away.

I good-naturedly waved goodbye as they moved on.

Then I looked down at Kon.

“So what’s a mod soul like you running around on your own?”

The doll took on an expression of panic, but even my grip was enough to keep it pressed into my (fake) bosoms. “Nooo….! It’s a trap!” it wailed.

“Now, now, don’t worry. I’m just curious. I think it was one of my friends that purchased you from Urahara’s. Why would you run away?”

“Why wouldn’t I run away?! Right after I was born, Soul Society decided mod souls like me should be destroyed. I was chosen to die! I was born like this, but I at least should be allowed to live and die freely!”

“Hm. Odd. This whole creating artificial souls, manufactured intelligences, is an ethical issue that I’ll have to discuss with Urahara later…” in a lower voice I muttered “freaking Soul Society and your schizo tech” then back in a normal voice “but I thought mod souls liked playing support, taking over Shinigami’s gigai towards safety while their owners leave to fight in their natural ghostly form?”

“I’m… I’m not just a normal mod soul…” Kon whispered sadly.

“I can certainly see that. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to be Orihime’s body when she needs your help.”

“… who?”

“That big-boobed young beauty, not that flat-chested Shinigami or that scowly orange-head.”

Kon could not change the shape of his black beady button eyes, but the cloth and stuffing moved trying to show brows furrowed in interest. “… continue.”

“Ohoho.” Past-Me always wondered if mod souls were actually genderless until programmed.  They were actually common enough in Soul Society that they're merchandise [with several well-defined personalities](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Gikongan). Was Kon programmed or did he acquire this perversion on his own?

It turned out that it was Orihime who decided to put the ‘soul candy’ into the mouth of a stuffed toy she just so happened to find along the road that day. She brought it home because she thought it looked cute, but then again she had always had… unique… tastes.

“Kon, I’m going to have to trouble you take care of my friend. She’s a sweet girl, but her soul is weak. Please help her. Someday her soul will become brilliant and powerful… but until then, we need your support.”

“That’s not my… did you just name me?”

Wait, what? Oh. Oh shit. That’s right. Ichigo and Rukia were supposed to name him ‘Kon’ later, short for Kaizo Konpaku/Mod Soul.

I laughed weakly and replied “Is that okay, King Of New York? K – O- N.”

“Is it okay?!” Kon’s eyes glittered. “May I call you Big Sister?”

“Ahahaha….”

It was at that point as I passed through the intersection, with Kon still in my arms, something in my peripheral vision caught my attention. I saw to my left Chad running with a large bird cage held out in front of him. Inside that birdcage was [a white parakeet](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Y%C5%ABichi_Shibata).  
  
I had mentioned before that Ichigo and I were not at all friends before our Hollow encounter and meeting Rukia. It was that large half-Mexican teen that was Ichigo’s actual best friend in school. Chad was so huge he could be mistaken for a full adult. Though scary-looking, he was also somewhat of a pacifist, refusing to fight to defend himself and only raising his fist to protect others.  
  
He had mild spiritual awareness, and that parakeet he was carrying was possessed by a little boy’s ghost. And by mild, I mean that he was unable to see ghosts but could at least hear the little boy’s pleas. This had the potential to turn bad for a multitude of reasons.   
  
He could hear the little bird’s cries to just " _put me down and run away on your own, mister!_  " Which of course Chad totally ignored.  
  
He couldn’t see the Hollow bounding and laughing behind him. It was a Hollow formed of the serial killer whose last act while alive was to kill the boy’s mother. Stuffing the boy’s soul into a canary and killing whoever happened to own it next was just a continuation of its sick games.

"Big Sister! Look!" Kon pointed. As an experimental mod soul created to fight Hollows, he couldn't help but to entreat "We need to help!"

For cryin’ out loud, why are the Shrieker and Kon plots happening on the same day?

I thought Kon was supposed to appear  _after_  Shrieker, as Rukia and Ichigo realized there was a need to be able to respond more quickly but to keep Ichigo’s body safe as he served as a Substitute Shinigami. But I suppose Orihime happens.

Flap, you beautiful butterfly, you, and cause Category 5 hurricanes!  
  
Well I suppose if they want to give me free XP, who am I to refuse? I took off my high-heeled shoes and prepared to run to help Chad. Then I saw Rukia and Ichigo across the street running to follow the Hollow’s trail.  
  
_I swear, if I see Ishida show up running next in this Scooby Doo scenario_ –  
  
My cellphone rang. I answered it, and unexpectedly it was Ichigo’s voice on the other end. “Jin! Go to Orihime! A Hollow just stole Orihime’s body!”  
  
Well shite.

I better stop Ishida from killing Orihime’s brother, because surely he’s going to be involved in this. Quincy arrows permanently destroy Hollows and thus prevent them from entering the cycle of reincarnation! (Though I suppose if I truly was an ethical person I should also care about random Hollows, but eh.)  
  
I didn’t mind how Ichigo chose to help his friend in front of him instead of the friend some distance away – after all, what sort of friend would simply stand and watch his friend being killed? This is why the Karakura Spirit Heroes  _team_  exists, after all!  
  
I ducked into an alleyway, and there was a bright flash. And then emerged a person clad in purple sporting leathers, a full-face helmet, and a skateboard – because his endurance is still pants and running was a fast way to get nowhere.  
  
Mysterious Teenage Superhero J has returned!

Kon stood there, staring up at me. “F-flat?”

Oops.

The toy dropped to all fours and began pounding at the road. “I have been betrayed! I am in despair! My Big Sister’s secret identity has left me in despair!”

Stop your crying and come on, mystical talking animal critter sidekick. This literal  _magical boy_  has a job to do.


	14. 3.4 Cherry Fantastic

  **3.4 Cherry Fantastic**

 

 

Oh to live in a world without cellphone GPS apps! In many ways, the soul radar inside the flip cellphones Shinigami were provided was more advanced than what was available to cell phones at this time. Once again, curses to Soul Society and its swords and and its Shogunate aesthetics and its completely schizophrenic tech levels!

I mean, I could accept it since every genius that has ever lived would eventually have made their way over to the semi-dystopia that is this setting’s afterlife, were it not for the fact that they all lose their memories upon entering Soul Society anyway!

And then whatever genius they possessed, how many of them would end up putting it to use in swording? Until they inevitably died and were reborn - the scant decades of a mortal accomplishes more than the centuries of living as a Plus soul in Soul Society, unless you were a true freak of nature like Mayuri Kurutsuchi, Kisuke Urahara or Sousuke Aizen.

It was the mortal world’s conceit to deem itself the center, and the afterlives’ pleasure to protect it.

I was beginning to understand why the Quincy were despised for threatening this natural state of affairs. Only they could truly kill in a world where, despite its savagery and iniquity, there was always the cycle to hope for in the next life.

I was more starting to despite why a Quincy could not give any clear directions over the phone. “Tanaka, you are too slow. Don’t even bother.”

“Dammit, Ishida! Shoot some arrows in the air like flares so I can find you, why don’t you?!”

“Tanaka, cease being so useless! Why are you trying to follow me? I don’t even need your help!”

“Oh? So you have healing kido now? You DPS noob. I can cure  _Dead_. Can  _you_  cure Dead?”

“… your medical utility aside, that has no bearing in chase combat. You should stay with Orihime instead. She only has Tatsuki to protect her.”

Orihime and Tatsuki alone. I sucked my breath. Classic divide and conquer, but I don’t know since when Sora Inoue could order around Hollows. It could be Aizen’s work.

“This smells like a trap, Ishida,” I mumbled. “Could it be that the Hollow mistook Orihime’s body while she was in her gigai? Or is it her gigai that was kidnapped?”

“It’s the former.”

“ _How?_ ”

“The mod soul escaped, so…”

“Wait, seriously? You were out looking for Kon?”

“Kon? What even is… ah, I suppose you managed to find the creature? I must at least applaud your luck, Tanaka.”

“… Orihime told you to go get her doll back, didn’t she?”

“… I am ashamed that I allowed our friendship to override my role as her protector, yes.”

“I swear, if Ichigo brings in Chad as a useful addition to our group, I’m going to find some way of awakening Tatsuki’s spiritual power.”

“… you should probably stop distracting me in my pursuit, but I will have to say that if it was that easy, billions of people should be spiritually aware by now. I’m hanging up now, go do your job.”

“Ishida? Hello? Uryuu, you ass, communication is valuable!” No answer. I sighed and put away my flip phone. Fecking loner cool heros. Wait, on that point…

I quickly dialed Orihime’s number. I let it ring for a few moments until getting an automated ‘Your call could be completed. This number might be busy or not in service’ message. Guhh.

Is it Aizen? I mean, I was sure Aizen would be sensible enough to disrupt communications… but then it should be  _all_  communications.

At this point I was still carrying Kon. I held up the lion doll up to my face. “My friend is in this whole fix because you ran away. If she gets hurt, it’s your fault.” My tone only carried a hint of anger. “Allowing death to happen if you could stop it… that also makes you partly responsible for it.

“Human beings are creatures who are sinfully lavish in their indifference to the suffering of others. You who were unwanted, you who c0ould only watch in helplessness as one by one your fellows were taken away to be destroyed as failed experiments… I don’t blame you for wanting to be free. But I hoped as a pure soul you’d escape that hypocrisy.”

Kon let his limbs droop bonelessly. “I’m sorry, big sis. I didn’t know.”

“That’s fine. Kon, you have strength. We need you,” I said with a smile. “I need you. Lend me your strength, you don’t have to be just the comic relief.”

The doll’s beady eyes glittered with unsheddable tears. “You… you have such faith in me even if we just met?! I won’t forget this!” He slapped a paw over his chest in a Roman salute. “Just leave it to me! I’ll protect your friend’s body! What do you need me to do?!”

“All right then. I have, uh, psychic powers. That’s how I know that you as a mod soul have powers specifically that reinforces your legs to leap and run. So this is what I need you to do…”

And soon enough Kon found himself clinging to one of my legs, held out like an outrigger to the road. He looked down at his soft rounded feet touching the asphalt, my shiny black leather shoes, then up at my face hidden by the motorcycle helmet.

Flatly he noted “Big Sis… you are fabulously lazy.”

“It’s too tiring to have to keep kicking at the ground to move. Damn Ishida" I shook my fists towards the distance. "If I’m slow, then obviously the solution is to borrow the power of others to increase my speed instead of diluting my build! I’m min-maxing this, baby! Idiots who don’t slow down and leave behind their healer deserve to die.”

“Big Sis, you lied to me again! I won’t trust you anymore!”

“Cease your whining and start running, portable engine!”

“I won’t forget thiiiiisss!” Kon wailed.

We began to zoom through the streets. Yes. This is good. Perhaps I should get Kon a new body with longer legs? If he were to be relied upon to protect Orihime’s body, should she start getting in shape with some Taekwondo or Savate?

For a moment there, I had a vision of Orihime standing and laughing with her arms on her hips, and with the thunder thighs of a Muay Thai practitioner. Poor Ichigo.

-x-

And when we arrived at Orihime’s house, we saw that the wrecked second floor had the boards already ripped open. Orihime’s brother, Sora, was fighting a Hollow that I’d never seen before. What the hell.

Sora Inoue looked mostly human now, the only hints of his Hollow form being a bone ridge growing from his cheeks, covering his ears and going around the back of his head, one that faintly reminded me of Mimbari bone crests or the flared hood of a cobra. His clothing was bone-white robes, like most Arrancar, but it could be seen that under it he wore a red bodysuit like the serpentine body of his Hollow form. His grip on Sode no Shirayuki, Rukia’s sword, was loose and as if holding a thrusting rapier rather than a slashing katana.

Uggh. Uryuu was right, I was too slow. Sometimes I hated not being the protagonist, of course the plot would keep on happening outside of my view.

Past-Me had expected something like this to happen, there were billions of people that had died before, so of course the variety of Hollows would also be vast and unfathomable.

Were it not for the living world being actually very poor in the reishi, the spiritual energy that both Hollows and Plus souls needed to exist, we would be overrun by monsters made out of the regrets in a human’s heart. Most of them generally instinctively know how to open a portal to Hueco Mundo.

Which means those Hollows that stick around the human world tended to be smart, malicious, or newly formed. Often times all three.

This hollow spoke with a voice that sounded like it lay beyond a sea of static. It had a faint resemblance to [a rhinoceros beetle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dynastinae). Only instead of that horn growing out of its forehead, it grew from its shoulders instead. Electricity arced between the points like a mad scientist’s tesla coil.

“I knew you were weak! We should have just eaten you when we found you-!”

A sickeningly shrill female voice came from a flying Hollow that looked somewhat like a pink octopus. That one I recognized, [the Numb Chandelier](http://bleach.wikia.com/wiki/Numb_Chandelier). “Just because you looked human but felt like a Hollow…? Is it that easy to become an Arrancar? Then what is the point of Gillian? What is the point of Adjuchas? Why is it so few of us can become a Vasto Lorde?”

The rhinobeetle Hollow, which I have dubbed Thunderer, charged forth while shouting “We venerate Arrancar as the ultimate form of the Hollow, the one that is free of this hunger…! We thought you were forgetting things because you were wounded by a filthy Shinigami… who would have thought you were really this weak?!”

The flying Hollow shot seed pods at Sora, while the electric rhino Hollow tried to ram and gore him from the side. Sora winced as he swung Rukia’s sword around to slash at the incoming pods. The Rhino hollow was about to reach him, then was blown off course by explosions to the side. A third Hollow leapt out from the bush fences.

This Hollow’s skull mask looked more like [a deer skull](https://img1.etsystatic.com/065/0/8237738/il_fullxfull.768028153_cdmm.jpg) than the common flat plate with teeth. It had small branching horns sprouting from its head. “You will not hurt My Lord!” the Hollow yelled in a young but scratchy voice.

What is this Hollow Civil War?

Then I saw Orihime’s face peek out from the second floor. “Is that Jin-kun? Oh!” She stepped out we saw the soul chain on her chest. ”You have to help! It’s Tatsuki!”

“Tatsuki is the what now?”

And then I heard a soul-rending cry of grief. Oh shit, Tatsuki!

But the pink Hollow flung itself off the roof to float in front of me. “Oh ho ho, what is this? Won’t you play with me, little boy?”

“King of New York, I choose you!” I swiftly took Kon and flung him into the Hollow’s face.

“WHY?!” the doll cried.

I slid under the Hollow and entered the building. No. Tatsuki. We were too careless. We didn’t expect an attack in the broad daylight! Who would be dumb enough to do that?! And even so, why isn’t anybody noticing this?! Even though Hollows and spiritual energies are invisible to normal people…

At the second floor I saw Tatsuki still screaming her head off. She was clutching her face, and her fingernails were digging into her skin deep enough to draw blood.

“Aaaaaaah! ORIHIME!”

Tatsuki was still sitting over Orihime’s body. Orihime’s pretty neck showed purple marks of someone having choked her to death. Tatsuki’s arm was bulging with fleshy veins and growths, the Numb Chandelier had the sick hobby of taking control over people with her pods, making people kill their loved ones fully aware of what they were doing but unable to do anything.

That look of betrayal in their precious people’s eyes as they died, the screaming and pleas and questions ‘Why?!’ that would do unheeded, and the screaming misery after it – Hollows were not Mazoku, they could derive no sustenance from negative emotions. They did these things because it was fun.

So that’s what happened. The Hollow infested Tatsuki with its nerve control pods and ordered her to kill Orihime.

“I’m here! Tatsuki! I’m still here! You didn’t kill me!” Orihime tried to hug her best friend but simply ghosted through her body. She looked up at me helplessly. “Jin-kun, help me! Can you fix Tatsuki?”

“… um, actually, the more pressing question is if I could fix you. That will certain help Tatsuki’s trauma.”

I should be more upset at this grisly murder scene, but man, I’m not sure anymore about this world’s medical knowledge. Clearly ghosts are full personalities that remember everything about their lives, so does it even matter if Orihime’s body experiences brain damage from lack of oxygen?

Tatsuki didn’t even notice me. She was still screaming. And now she’s trying to claw down her own face. I reached out to grab her wrists before she could mutilate herself from the despair and self-hatred out of killing her own best friend. I failed. I could see hot red flesh parting under her fingertips, and down her cheeks dripped blood and tears.

Curse these noodle arms!

“TATSUKI! TATSUKI WAKE UP!”

Slapping someone back to their senses was disadvised, and it wouldn’t work anyway as Tatsuki’s hands were protecting her face as much as they were ruining it. What could I –

Orihime mimed punching her best friend straight in the face.

Orihime why. Why, Orihime.

You know what, fine. You can help me with this.

I cast [Conjure Spirit] at her.

“Ow! Ow! That still stings, Jin-kun!”

“Weird, Rukia didn’t have that problem.”

Orihime gave me squinty outraged eyes at my obvious attempt at provoking jealousy.

“O… rihime…?”

I stepped back. Yes, sorry, I’m killing the drama here. It’s kind of difficult for me when as a Necromancer I can feel there’s no such thing as death, only different states of being alive. What angered me most here was that Tatsuki was hurt at all.

Defying fate and ruining the timeline… I was too complacent! Why was I so sure that without Ishida’s foolish use of a Hollow Bait to compete with a Shinigami drawing these Hollows, they wouldn’t show up until much later? Sora Inoue was as big a butterly as his sister!

“Orihime…!” Tatsuki’s hands left her face and she hesitantly reached out to grasp Orihime. She saw the blood on her hands and flinched back. “It can’t be… I killed you!”

Orihime’s gaze was warm and full of love. It was going to be just fine, she began to reassure Tatsuki. She hugged her friend with her spiritual body now made of condensed reishi.

Tatsuki didn’t dare to close her arms. Her eyes were still wide and frantic, focusing on the sight of Orihime’s corpse behind soul-Orihime’s shoulders.

“Yes, but it’s not your fault. I said it before… I forgive you. I won’t stay dead.” Orihime turned towards me and a strange glint crossed her eyes. “Won’t I, Jin-kun?”

I grinned back. “If only Ichigo could see you like this, you Impossible Girl.” I tilted my hips, discreetly pointed at her body and cast [Heal], [Heal], and [Heal].

Then one more [Heal] for good measure. Whew. That took a lot out of me. I could only manage five successive castings of [Heal] or [Harm] before knocking myself out from the strain. “Back inside you go, princess. It’s too troublesome to be wandering around outside like this.”

Tatsuki shuffled back. Soul-Orihime positioned to lie back over her own body and sank into herself. Then, after a few moments, she opened her eyes and let out a desperate gasp for breath. She sat up.

“Orihime… Orihime!” Tatsuki cried as she clasped the now-living-again Orihime. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I was too weak. I was always the one who beat the shit out of anyone who made you cry. I always promised… Instead-”

To feel her own body move without her control, no matter how much she fought it - that was the stuff of horror stories! And in this world that could happen to anyone at any time, and no one would have any idea why.

“No, I was too weak and shouldn’t be protected all the time. It’s my fault. You were hurt because of me!” Orihime began sniffling too. “It hurt, and I was so scared… but it hurt more to see you didn’t mean it, you wanted to stop but you couldn’t! It’s my fault all this happened! You shouldn’t have been dragged into my mess!”

She clutched at Tatsuki’s shirt and all but all but screamed out “I can’t do anything except be protected. I don’t like it! This hurts me even worse, that you’re all getting hurt because you’re trying to help me.”

“You died! I killed you! That’s inexcusable!” Tatsuki grit her teeth. Her face was all scrunched up in pain that had nothing to do with the horrid wounds on her face. But at least she was starting to calm down. “What happened? What’s going on here?” Then she looked up at me and glared. “And what does this have to do with YOU!?”

“Um. Uhh. Tee Ell Dee Are. Ichigo, Uryuu, Rukia, and I have super powers. We’ve been fighting murderous ghosts in secret. Orihime’s brother turned into one of these murderous ghosts. She was attacked a few days ago. That’s why she was experiencing so many fainting spells recently.”

Her return gaze communicated  _'This is not even the most bullshit thing I've heard you say'_.

Something slapped onto the edge of the broken wall. We turned to see Kon’s rounded paw trying to grip the corner, and then the toy pulled himself up and over. He tumbled and landed flat on his face.

He pushed his face off the floor and, seeing me, cried out “Big Sis, you are too mean!”

I flashed him a thumbs up and grinned. “I knew you could do it.”

“Liar!”

“… what? What?!” Tatsuki stammered. “That thing just talked! Orihime… this thing about ghost fighting… is this really happening?”

Orihime nodded. “It’s true.”

“ANNOYING!” Then a large grinning skull head surged up over the hole. I recoiled backwards, what the heck is this jump scare?! Orihime gasped again in fright, and tightened her hold on her friend. This time she was resolved to put her own body in front of Tatsuki.

Tatsuki merely frowned. There was nothing there she could see.

“Annoying creature, hold still and- What’s this? You’re alive!” the Numb Chandelier hissed at Orihime. “How dare you, pitiful humans! This just means I can play with you all a little longer…”

Tatsuki heaved. “What’s that? I just heard something?! Who said that?!”

“Toys like you should remain broken! Break! Break! Break!” The Hollow, which was little more than an oversized head, with pinkish-purple tentacles that grew out the back giving the shape of hair, spat out some more of its globules. It could change the pods from burrowing control vines to explosives.

Zot. Zot.

They fizzled and bounced off two electric yellow [Shields of Protection] around the two girls.

“Ichigo should be the one here. He’s the classic hero, he should be the one showing off in front of you two cute girls. But I’m just support personnel like you, so we should really be running right now.”

I waved towards the broken wall and sent a pulse of Black Necromantic energy [Conjure Spirit], causing the reishi around the Hollow to harden and reflect light. Tatsuki gasped on seeing the monster, and she knew instinctively that it was this one that made her murder Orihime.

I sighed. This was one of the few unique flying Hollows. Even [NOSI BALASI] can’t fight what it can’t reach. [Harm] was powerful and impossible to dodge, but I lacked the endurance to keep spamming that magic until a Hollow dies.

“Huhuhu…!” the Hollow chuckled. “Smart little human, but what makes you think I’ll let you escape and ruin my fun? I'm sure that fake Arrancar down there would be devastated to see your broken corpse.”

If Dolores Umbridge had died and turned into a Hollow due to lingering resentment, I imagine it would be much like this one. Cowardly, cruel, preferring to pick on the weak and enjoying their terror and despair in order to feel powerful. But nothing will ever fill the emptiness that is a Hollow’s missing heart.

I threw a smoke bomb at its face, then followed by Harm. Numb Chandelier yelped in unexpected pain, and failed to bat away the smoke bomb before it exploded in its mouth. It began to cough and wheeze, because it was an Urarahara Shop product. The things most reliable in its inventory were those that were designed to fail.

“But this Hollow hurt you, Tatsuki. So it’s gotta die.”

Orihime stood up [and nodded](http://www.absoluteanime.com/bleach/orihime%5B2%5D.jpg). “I agree.”

Numb Chandelier laughed mockingly and swooped back out of range. “You stupid, stupid, stupid children! The weak should know their place. If you are weak, run, hide, that is your victory! The powerless are toys for the powerful, this is how it has always been and will ever be!”

It shot its tentacles forward, piercing through the walls with ease, attacking from three different directions simultaneously and leaving us no room to dodge.

”You think you can fight me? With what? Cry out to the world for your own powerlessness, and die screaming!”


	15. 3.5 Lova Lova

**3.5 Lova Lova**  
  
  
Orihime Inoue was a beautiful young woman. But we were nothing alike at all.  
  
Orihime, Chizuru, and I, we were all subject of bullying because we were different. But while Chizuru and I still had loving parents Orihime had shitty parents. Then her brother died leaving her completely alone. Her shitty grandparents weren’t willing to take in that career-ruining whore’s child.  
  
Her father was now in jail. Her mother was in a grave. Orihime was now effectively an orphan.  
  
Whatever we had suffered, Orihime had it a worse by a hundrefold. While Chizuru and I were the focus of envy or just utter annoyance, Orihime was tormented because she was completely helpless. She was pretty, but so what? In the end she’s just going to be some nasty person’s toy; she was being judged and discarded by society before her story had even begun.  
  
They made her hate herself, wondering if they were right. Her parents were terrible people. What if she really was just a bad seed? She hated herself for making her last words to her brother being that she hated him, because at that time he was also leaving her alone. She rejected him as society was rejecting her. He was always busy with his job, and he couldn’t protect her at all in school because their runaway family couldn’t afford to make any waves that would risk Sora’s job.  
  
They enjoyed seeing her in pain and before Tatsuki happened, Orihime had begun to shut down.  
  
And that’s when they started to literally start kicking her when she was down. And I mean it, literally knocking her to the ground and kicking at her ribs just to see her reacting again for their fun. There were some nasty junior high girls in Karakura.  
  
“I was so alone…” I could hear her mutter. “Always so alone…”  
  
I was depressed and considered suicide, but what I suffered was nothing compared to Orihime.  
  
Behind that cheery face and vapid gaze, Orihime was a broken bird. Oh, Orihime’s just so weird with her strange tastes in food (ramen with wasabi and honey) and dream for the future being [a city destroyer death robot](https://monochromescarlet.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/orihimes-future.jpg?w=339&h=254). No. That may have been funny to those on the other side of the screen, but what was once that reckless imagination of a child had developed into a defense mechanism. Orihime fled from cruel reality, and the only little power she could exert during her torment was to make her bullies react in confusion. It was the physical abuse she’d suffered that even now made her shy away from committing any violence in turn.  
  
Her soul cried out in helplessness to the world.  
  
“If it wasn’t for Tatsuki…” she looked up and glared at the Hollow. “I wouldn’t be here. My life for Tatsuki, that’s fair enough!”  
  
The world didn’t care about her cries.  
  
The only one brave enough to stand up for someone feeling so worthless was Tatsuki Arisawa. Tatsuki didn’t care if she had to fight against the boys who were siblings of those bullies or badmouthed behind her back in the way those without power can only fight back. The words that cut Orihime couldn’t touch Tatsuki.  
  
She had no power of her own, she could see that. These past few weeks were some of the happiest in her life. Ichigo was paying attention to her! She got to live with Tatsuki’s family for a little bit and slept in Tatsuki’s room – like, almost sisters! That was wonderful! Even Jeyu and Rukia, though they were annoying sometimes, it was easy to see they meant well and cared what happened to her. Uryuu would probably have been disappointed to hear Orihime admit his existence was somewhat shallow to her. For all his white knight behavior, he was just some guy who was around the vicinity when something interesting was happening.  
  
And then this thing, this horrid thing!  
  
She was already dead, it was fine to die under Tatsuki’s hands. She would never hurt her friend. But seeing Tatsuki’s face in so much pain…  
  
Unforgivable!  
  
Orihime and I were not close friends. Because we were actually so similar we somehow repelled each other. But we respected that we were both Tatsuki’s friends and for her sake we should get along. Since I had the job of welding her soul back onto her body every time she walked out of it, I guess we had some productive conversations.  
  
Rudely I had asked Orihime if she ever wondered if the sole reason she was helped was because she was pitiful and cute, and if she ever learned to stand up for herself, did she ever fear being abandoned again?  
  
Friendships don’t work by give and take like that, like a business exchange, it was about wearing a comfortable groove into someone’s life.  
  
The Numb Chandelier’s lashing tentacles approached. If I covered the both of us in [Shields of Protection] we would probably either bounce uncontrollably through the room (and risk accidentally crushing Tatsuki) or the sheer speed meant the attack would pierce through before the electrostatic force could repel it.  
  
And then Orihime exploded.  
  
I didn’t need to do anything. Oh you poor stupid stupid Hollow. Either Ichigo and Uryuu could have ended you quickly, but then you just decided to pick a fight with the two Barrier Maidens in the team.  
  
“I stopped talking, even in school, and I became more alone than ever before,” Orihime admitted through grit teeth. “The one who stopped me from being that way was Tatsuki. She yelled at me for backing down and always looked out for me.” Orihime touched her hairpins and closed her eyes. “I could grow my hair out again thanks to her. I will never have short hair again, because my long hair is proof of my faith in Tatsuki-chan.”  
  
She opened her eyes and glared at the Numb Chandelier. “I will never forgive you!”  
  
Op, op, Reimu style. Hakurei Reimu style.  
  
The Hollow withdrew its tentacles and hissed “So you have some small bit of power. What can you do? The only thing that matters is if you can fight. Pathetic souls, pathetic humans! You need to die first before you can mean anything.”  
  
You stupid,  _stupid_  Hollow.  
  
Plus souls had no inherent power. Shinigami, sure, but they had to be trained for it. Newly-made ghosts were nothing more than roving bundles of delicious reishi. But every soul could become a Hollow, and Hollows developed their own unique abilities in exchange for the unsatiable emptiness.  
  
Her six-petaled flower hairpin, the one her brother gave to her and one she rejected because she was already being bullied in school for her pretty hair at that point, also exploded. From its glowing remains spun out six spiraling trails of warm golden-yellow light.  
  
I quirked my brows. I had a strange fascination with [golden powers](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/zelda/images/7/77/Triforce_in_the_Golden_Land.png/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/250?cb=20100118144617) that expressed itself into triangles.  
  
Spiraling winds raged around her, blowing aside the furniture and incidentally also all other people in the room, then calmed down. Six dart-like shapes flew in circles around her, spiraling to keep within the room. I coughed, got back up from my sprawl, and looked for Tatsuki. She had crouched down and avoided being flung away by the wind pressure.  
  
“Oh, she noticed us?” a voice said from out of nowhere.  
  
“About time. After all, we were always the ones closest to her.”  
  
One of the darts landed on her shoulder, and unfolded out into a doll-sized person with straight blond hair pulled back into a thick ponytail and wearing a red robe. The dart shell remained at its back like oddly-shaped wings. “Hello, Orihime!”  
  
“Eeeh?!”  
  
The other five darts stopped in front of her and unfolded to show the little people inside.  
  
“It’s nice to meet you at last Orihime!” spoke a tiny girl with pink wings and a leotard. All of them looked normal enough, despite their outlandish clothing, but their legs ended in birdlike toes instead of human legs. “I am Lily! I will defend you!”  
  
“Aaah?! Fairies?! Flying fairies are here and talking to me?!”  
  
The first creature from before shook its head. “That’s a cute reaction. But we aren’t fairies. We are [the Shun Shun Rikka](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/powerlisting/images/3/35/Orihime_Inoue_and_the_Shun_Shun_Rikka.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20120801234836), the Six Princess Protecting Flowers. We are your powers. We were born to protect you.”  
  
“We are a part of you,” said another tiny flying figure. Disturbingly, this one looked like a middle-aged man long goblin ears and with large eyepatch that ended in a horn that jutted out of his bald head. He was wearing a right full body purple unitard. “I am Hinagiku!”  
  
The others introduced themselves. A muscular fairy-like being with a heavy mask that covered the bottom part of his face was Baigon. The one with a dress larger than her body and her wings covering her head like an oversized veil was Ayame. The leader introduced himself as Shun’o.  
  
“Only you can see us. Well maybe Kurosaki would, since it is due to him that we were born.”  
  
“Um, Kurosaki-kun? Why, how-?”  
  
“You talk too much!” another small spirit lunged at the first one, driving him away from Orihime’s front. This one had a more bat-like appearance and his face below the eyes was hidden by a wrapped cloth mask. “Hey, woman, you don’t need to understand who we are or where we came from, don’t you? The important thing is, are you ready to use us to fight or not?” This arrogant little being was Tsubaki, and formed Orihime’s offense.  
  
“Call out our names! Use your heart and your Spirit chant!” Hinagiku excitedly screeched again.  
  
“What are you mumbling on about over there? Huh? Young girl? Wake up already!” The holes in the Numb Chandelier’s head grew black shards, and it launched them in a manner much like missiles, a thick contrail and swerving around to confuse AA targeting and all.  
  
“Repeat after me!” urged Shun’o. “Hinagiku! Baigon! Lily!”  
  
“Hinagiku! Baigon! Lily!” Orihime nodded and repeated. As the explosive pods were about to reach her, she instinctively finished with “ **Santen Kesshun**! I reject!”  
  
A [triangular golden energy shield](https://img-cache.cdn.gaiaonline.com/647a6fc050708f3f98336b0c97abdfd0/http://i29.tinypic.com/zl5jyc.jpg) formed in between the spirits Baigon, Lily and Hinagiku. The pods exploded harmlessly away from us. As I saw that, I thought it was a pity that Orihime didn’t have three sets of three spirits. Heh. Then again, if she had them she’d probably be [omnipotent](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/86/Triforce.svg/1200px-Triforce.svg.png).  
  
Orihime looked at her outstretched hands and beyond it the Hollow, and whispered “I understand now. I’m afraid, I’m so afraid! But I’m more afraid you’ll hurt Tatsuki again. So I have to make it… make it absolute inside my territory! I absolutely reject you!”  
  
Um. What.  
  
Orihime, you were actually paying attention to my random musings about the AT-field? Orihime, I said all that  _because_  that wasn’t how souls worked in this setting.  
  
Looking at Orihime’s beautifully stern face, like some sort of modern Athena, I wondered how quickly things snowballed away from her pacifist nature as in canon. Orihime looked like she had an empty head, she was unfairly blessed because of body, but she was actually  _very_  book smart. She was third in class, Uryuu being the first and me around the sixteenth and Ichigo lower down on the percentile.  
  
Powers were instinctive. Zanpakto spirits were a different personality formed out of someone’s soul. Orihime’s soul produced six different self-aware personalities, what the hell.  
  
“Tatsuki always said this… someday, I always wanted to say it… you picked a fight with the wrong person! No... you picked the wrong person to hurt!”  
  
Orihime raised her left hand level to her chest, then pointed out with her right hand. She posed. She was posing. What the hell, Orihime? Where did you learn how do this Orihime?  
  
“What… what’s going on here? Since when could Orihime do this?!” Tatsuki mumbled from behind us. She clutched at the ragged wound in her shoulder, formed from the pod that infested and took over her body.  
  
“Orihime was broken when you found her, Tatsuki, and while you helped bring the pieces together and pasted over the cracks, you’re looking at parts that never quite fit together again.” I turned around to look at her, turning my back on Orihime, for I knew she had this. “To save a life doesn’t require a grand gesture, but it’s not a thing you should do if you’re not prepared for the consequences.  
  
“So many people are afraid of showing kindness because then the people they help can get  _attached_. If you help, and you pull away because it’s too hard, that is a betrayal beyond the harm of simply not helping. Those who are helped may be given an inch and ask for a mile. You can give and give and never have given enough. There are people who hate themselves and hate the world that made them so much that they hate whoever tries to tell them different.  
  
“But Orihime never got that far. Because you saved her. To save a life only requires little gestures, but it must be done with regularity. It’s more than just providing for someone’s living. It’s the smile, the touch, the knowledge that there is something they can do that can make someone else happy. Every single day, a reason to get up and face the world. You gave that to Orihime. And because of that, her powers are beings that will prevent her from being so alone again… but also powers that want to be useful to others.”  
  
“It’s Orihime’s own hard work. She’s stronger than you think.”  
  
I heard explosions from behind me. “Well of course she is.”  
  
“… she’s jumping in the air! Of course, a shield in the air is just another word for a platform!” Kon exclaimed. “Big Sis, you are no longer my hero! Hime-sis is now my hero!”  
  
Then another explosion. I resisted the urge to turn around. Cool guys don’t look at explosions.  
  
“Holy crap, Orihime!” Tatsuki yelled out, then grimaced in pain. “That… that’s a good move. Just like what we practiced.”  
  
Uggh. Yes, Tatsuki did spend a lot of time training Orihime how to fight to build up her self-confidence and protect herself, even if Orihime still looked so soft and vulnerable and unwilling to do violence. She was actually around black belt level. What the heck are you doing right now Orihime?  
  
“A world where you can hurt others! I reject!”  
  
My cheeks twitched.  
  
The Numb Chandelier screamed. I turned around just in time to see Tsubaki, the spirit that represented Orihime’s anger and killing intent, transform back into dart form and ram himself into the Hollow. The dart form very much resembled a [batarang](https://static.turbosquid.com/Preview/2014/07/09__15_04_07/Render3.JPG86a69acc-83ba-4610-ae9e-55c6e5f177f9Original.jpg). Tsubaki projected a shield off the bladelike wings that rejected what was on either side of it. In effect, cutting enemy in half. Vertically.  
  
“… ridiculous…!” the Numb Chandelier gasped out as its last words, before screaming and splitting apart to decay into a shower of loose reishi.  
  
Orihime bounced back up to the second floor and the golden triangle of the [Santen Kesshun] disappeared from under her feet. My mouth was a slack (*Ꜭ*). Orihime, what. Did you just  _reject gravity?_ Did you? How did you even know you could that?!  
  
What could have caused this… this… unprecedented badassery?! Was it because Ichigo did not have Shinigami powers, and as such Orihime had an example that normal people needed tools to fight more creatively? Was it from my use of the [Shield of Protection], and as such Orihime didn’t feel like being redundant? Or… maybe she wanted something that would keep Rukia or Uryuu from killing her brother. It wasn’t enough just to stand and be a Barrier Maiden, she needed to be able to  _move_  to where she was needed.  
  
Holy shit, Orihime. She gave me a little self-satisfied grin, before staggering on her feet.  
  
Wait a second…  
  
Sure, Rukia and Ichigo spend a lot of time together, but actually the one he spends most time with these days because Ichigo, Uryuu and I wanted to work out fighting strategies was –me-. I was saying that Ichigo likes girls with spunk, and his girlfriend should have the courage to tell him no when he goes off trying to help without a plan again. But the one Ichigo actually obeys without much complaint, was… oh shite.  
  
All this time I was trying to make her jealous of Rukia…  
  
Orihime, all this time, were you actually competing against –me-?!  
  
“Orihime!” Painfully Tatsuki got up to her feet and rushed to catch her friend. Orihime smiled gently, but frowned at seeing the ragged would on Tatsuki’s shoulder get so close to her face.  
  
“There’s… there’s one more thing,” she whispered. “ **Soten Kisshun**. I reject!” she gasped out as the spirits Ayame and Shun’o flew over Tatsuki’s shoulders. “The world where you’re hurting so much…”  
  
A shining golden globe covered Tatsuki’s shoulders, and her injuries seemed to reverse.  
  
“I could probably have [Healed] that too, but it’s good to know that there’s two healers in the team.” The two spirits glared at me. I had just admitted to allowing Tatsuki to remain hurt, after all. Their feelings were Orihime’s feelings.  
  
In my defense, I’d just finished [Healing] Orihime back from actual death and was waiting for my stamina to recuperate, then things just happened so quickly.  
  
Orihime collapsed, now asleep. The Shun Shun Rikka disappeared back into Orihime’s hairpin, but not before Tsubaki giving me an ‘[I’ll be watching you](https://pa1.narvii.com/6342/78a415c9984d10f46c0632cc23486c165f91c409_hq.gif)’ gesture.  
  
I smiled back and nodded approvingly at her sleeping form. Good job. That’ll do, Princess. That’ll do.  
  
There was a heavy thump from behind Orihime. I craned my head to look around Tatsuki’s shoulders to see that Sora Inoue had taken this time to appear. Madness glittered in his eyes.  
  
“Good. Good, Orihime. You’re strong… so it’s fine if I take you away now. There is a place for us…”  
  
Tatsuki clung to Orihime and squinted at the strange distortion in the air. “That voice…? Isn’t that Orihime’s brother?”  
  
“Right. As I said before. Orihime’s brother is a crazy angry ghost now,” I answered.  
  
Sora raised Rukia’s sword to level with my eyebrows. Steam hissed out from where his fingers touched the hilt. “Shut up! I don’t know what your plan is for Orihime… but she needs to be safe. She needs to be saved from -you-! I’ve been watching you, you manipulative little shit! Stand aside or I’ll kill you.”  
  
… what. Seriously, what. Why am I Aizen now?  
  
Tatsuki clutched at Orihime harder and spat out, “Never.”  
  
  


-x-  


AN: Next chapter is Ichigo vs Sora. Get hyped. 


	16. 3.6 Sis Boom Bah

**3.6 Sis Boom Bah**  
  
  
“I see,” I replied, my voice even and unafraid.  
  
My silent internal screaming aside, I stared at Sora Inoue squarely in the eyes, right past Sode No Shirayuki. That was the name of Rukia’s zanpakuto, and given how the Arrancar seemed to be in pain just holding on to it, the sword spirit was clearly not willing to serve as a medium to control his Hollow hunger. True arrancar should by now have manifested their own swords.  
  
And from the corner of my mouth I hissed “…Tatsuki, please tell me you have suddenly figured out how to punch fire.”  
  
“…what?”  
  
"Yeah we’re sunk...” I sighed. Orihime was a total badass, and the only person that Sora would always hold back against, but she was presently unconscious. I forced a confident grin on my face and continued in a louder voice addressing Sora “…now, now, that is completely unnecessary. No need for violence." I coughed. "Well, any  _more_  violence. You’re an Arrancar now, we can talk this out.”  
  
“No more talking. Move or die.”  
  
I took a deep breath. “…No.”  
  
Sora beamed. “I was hoping you’d say that.”  
  
His sword flashed -  
  
And my cell phone rang.  
  
“My lord! Enemies approach!” cried out the deer Hollow from below.  
  
Oh thank you Ichigo and your bullshit protagonist power! I grinned wider and spoke again while making jazz hands “Well, you  _know_  it’s not me that you really need to beat. If you can’t beat Ichigo, Orihime won’t ever stay with you.”  
  
With one last guttural noise, Sora backflipped out of the room and went out to the street. I peeked out to see Ichigo, Rukia, and even Chad running down the street. So I shouted down at him, “You are outnumbered, Sora Inoue! Go, and try again later! If you want, meet Ichigo at the park later tonight! One on one fight! Two fools enter, one idiot leaves!”  
  
Sora and Ichigo pointed at me at the same time and snapped, “SHUT UP!”  
  
Then they pointed at each other. “NO YOU SHUT UP!”  
  
“Give me back my sword, foul creature!” Rukia yelled over them.  
  
Sora scowled and glanced down at his sword. He slashed towards the group, and from the sword’s tip a thin, glowing purple line extended like a whip.  
  
“Down!” Rukia commanded and tackled Ichigo to the ground. His chin hit the pavement. Chad toppled over to the side. Ichigo’s friend was half-Mexican and huge, so muscled and tall that he was often mistaken for an adult already. He rolled on his side and really looked like a fallen log going downhill. Behind the group a metal light post fell down, cut in half, and a deep sizzling line etched into the boundary brick wall of the Arisawa family home.  
  
Huh. A literal acid wire.  
  
This was bad. Whips were notoriously [difficult to deal with](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Lightwhip) by lightsaber users. But since it was projected off the tip of an actual sword, there was no disadvantage in short-range combat! “Ichigo, forget honorable combat! Let’s everybody pile on!”  
  
I formed my right arm into a finger gun and supported the aim with my left hand.  
  
Ichigo pushed Rukia off him and ignited his Quincy energy blade. He grit his teeth and rushed forth.  
  
Chad looked down at the empty street and then up at me through the shattered remains of the Inoue house’s second floor. “Keep your head down!” Rukia yelled at him even as she leaped to higher ground. Chad boggled at how she could reach all the way up to the roof of a two-story townhouse but with a single jump.  
  
“Kurosaki Ichigo…” Sora hissed. “You’re just an ignorant child, putting Orihime in danger by bringing her into your games.”  
  
“She wouldn’t be in this danger if you didn’t try to kill her, idiot!” Ichigo yelled back.  
  
“I was never going to hurt Orihime! I was trying to kill you, you… you double idiot!” Sora roared. Again he slashed towards Ichigo. “I’ll kill you to death!”  
  
Ichigo dodged aside, even as the acid wire slammed into the road, digging a deep furrow and kicking up shrapnel. Just as he lowered his left hand from shielding his face, he saw a hoof swinging for his head. He managed to suddenly twist his neck aside, but the passing air from the blow still cut his cheek.  
  
Then the deer-headed Hollow leaped up instead of attacking Ichigo again, and it was almost too late for our hero to notice the arriving acid wire hidden from behind its back. He raised his reishisaber and the acid wire sparked on contact. Ichigo extended his arms and flicked the reishisaber out and in a half-circle down to keep the trailing end of the wire from bending around the blade and bisecting him.  
  
Instead the long end of the acid wire slapped down into the ground again.  
  
Ichigo skipped backwards, and even from a distance I could see he was coming to realize that no matter how unhinged Sora Inoue might be, or whatever bullshit he was saying, Orihime’s older brother really intended to kill him.  
  
“It’s only been little more than a week…!” I murmured. “Where the heck did Sora find this Hollow and how are they so good at partner tactics already?”  
  
Fortunately, they’re not the only ones that can operate in a team. Rukia had by this time almost completed her chant for her Hado. My breath caught in my throat as she chanted.  
  
“Ye lord! Mask of flesh and bone,  
flutter of wings,  
ye who bears the name of Man!  
  
Truth and temperance,  
upon this sinless wall of dreams  
unleash but slightly  
the wrath of your claws!”  
  
Sourceless winds tugged at her skirt and her hair. She was tiny, usually so stern that it bordered on hilarious to take advantage of, but now there was nothing cute about her. That usually awkward intensity in civilian life now was laser-like professionalism. She was not cute; Rukia was beautiful.  
  
Her right palm was held outstretched and supported her, and her left hand was like a soldier trying to manage the recoil of an assault rifle. A glowing ball of viscous reishi, very much like spherical lightning, began to accumulate.  
  
“Hadou – Way of Destruction – Number Thirty-Three! Soikatsui!”  
  
A veritable torrent of energy erupted from Rukia’s open palm, blasting away at Sora and much of the street besides.  
  
Yes! I had magic, but kido was awesome! It bugged me why my magic seemed to be invisible to others and myself, much in the same way dense spiritual energy was invisible to normal people. Magic was supposed to be flashy and impressive! Fireballs and magic missiles and such! That was the meaning of being a mage! Beautiful explosions!  
  
But I was a necromancer.  
  
How boring.  
  
Wait, wait, a mask of flesh and bone. That’s Hollows. And Hollows  _are_ Man. Or maybe it’s in reference to the Spirit King…? A flutter of wings. I know certain assholes whose Quincy powers manifest as wings. What’s up with these weird Kido chants? While they should be powered by a Shinigami’s own reiatsu, I wondered if higher-lever kido cut reality with some sort of power exchange ala Shabranigdo and the Dragon Slave thing.  
  
Still, dayum. “That’s some impressive devastation going on there…” I said out loud. “Rukia’s just hosing the whole damn battle space. If only she had stronger reiatsu reserves.”  
  
Tatsuki shielded her eyes from the glare, and as it faded gasped out at me “What the hell was that?! You… you knew Rukia could do this?!”  
  
She glanced down at Orihime in her arms, and then glared up at me. “Why did she even transfer to our school? There’s so many things you’ve been hiding from me… you and I are going to have a talk after this, mister!”  
  
I nodded. Of course. My attention was still outside.  
  
Rukia panted for breath, and her right arm dangled, limp from her shoulder down. The street was wreathed in smoke. This time she was never wounded so badly that she needed to be put into a gigai to recover her powers, one which was actually sucking her dry instead. Her gigai was a convenience, nothing more. She might not have had her zanpakuto, but here, she was still at full power.  
  
Rukia looked away and down towards Ichigo’s wide-eyed expression and allowed a small satisfied smile to grace her face.  
  
Then another thin glowing purple thread of Hollow reishi snaked out of the smoldering cover, too fast for her to dodge!  
  
I lowered my thumb. Click.  
  
**[Shield of Protection]**  
  
A spinning yellow globe appeared around Rukia, deflecting the acid wire.  
  
The highly compressed string of Hollow reiatsu would normally have just cut through the shield, but instead of trying to resist it, it required less energy to make it slide off. I dimly remembered watching a different kind of spherical shield – the Kaiten – and how spinning made everything better.  
  
Rukia lowered her arms, held up in a futile last attempt to protect herself. “Sir Tanaka!” she gasped in grateful realization.  
  
Kido was awesome. I would never be as good a barrier maiden as Orihime, and eventually their powers would outstrip my meager magic. But what I could do in the meantime was to hammer it in, the power of teamwork. I won’t abide any one-on-one honorable duels! (Unless it would be funny.)  
  
“Hahaha! That’s right! Teamwork, you bunch of baboons!” I shouted down towards Sora Inoue and Ichigo.  
  
We were teenagers going against dead people with hundreds of years of actual combat experience! We were up against monsters that had arbitrary and unpredictable special abilities! The best way to punch above our own weight was to cheat in the always in the everything!  
  
“Sora Inoue! The ability to come together and combine our weaknesses into strengths! This is the power of humanity!”  
  
A pulse of reiatsu blew away the obscuring smoke. The deer Hollow was kneeling in front of Sora with its arms crossed. The scorched rubble stopped at a perfect circle around the two.  
  
What the shite. Where did you pick up a barrier maiden of your own, Sora Inoue?!  
  
“No. That is the power of a Hollow,” he replied, flicking Sode no Shirayuki down to let its tip scrape at the concrete. The stone hissed and burned on contact. “Die, and be devoured. Be eaten, and become one with my power. Let the many become the one.”  
  
The deer Hollow, provisionally to be known as Russicrust (and how we actually discovered its special Hollow power to be recounted later) and Sora shared a look. The Arrancar shook his head and the Hollow moved out of his way.  
  
The Hollow then moved to stand guard behind Sora’s back as he walked towards Ichigo, and stared up at me. I could see no eyes behind its large Hollow mask, but I could feel its stare almost like a knife running up and down my ribs.  
  
If I were to interfere, like trying to throw off Sora’s focus with an annoying Harm pinch at the right moment… it would do something just as sudden, and lethal.  
  
Tatsuki peeked around the broken outer wall. “Is that Ichigo? What’s he doing?”  
  
“Protag’s gotta fight a one on one duel. Dammit!  _Dammit!”_  I hissed and swore, pulling my hand back and nervously biting on a manicured thumbnail.  
  
My power… I was starting to understand that I was being given XP not out of personal growth but from how much I could defy fate. But this world seemed to finally be fighting back.  
  
All the signs were pointing to this being a fight that Ichigo needed to lose. To motivate himself. But this was my life, not a goddamn anime. I couldn’t just trust that things would turn out alright when some baddie wanted to kill my mostly untrained brawler friend.  
  
I could Heal stab wounds, but not outright decapitation or dismembering! Swords are dangerous, dammit!  
  
And then they clashed. Rukia could probably recount it all much better, I was never really much into the intricacies of swordery. I’m a mage, my vocabulary begins and ends with point and shoot. Certainly, I could see that Sora had the sheer advantage of range, but he gave that up for the sheer pleasure of being able to stab Ichigo in the gut with naked steel.  
  
But Ichigo’s reishi beam saber was weightless. I could tell it was throwing him off, parrying and there being no weight to handle the impact as all the energy went straight into his wrists.  
  
That was fine, though. Rukia might not have had her zanpakto, but there was nothing that said she couldn’t use a regular wooden shinai to spar against Ichigo. I could see bit by bit that Ichigo was getting used to lethal strikes being aimed at him, his parrying and counterattacks were getting easier, and for all that he was mainly an untrained brawler, Sora Inoue was even more untrained at using a sword.  
  
Surviving the first clash of blades, and the next, and the next, bit by bit Ichigo was learning and growing stronger. That was what it meant to be the main character! While he was getting used to the feeling of the energy blade, Sora Inoue had to continually fight Sode no Shirayuki’s rejection.  
  
Sora hissed as the energy blade grazed his shoulder. Glowing purple wire spooled out of Sode no Shirayuki’s tip and Ichigo ducked, just narrowly avoiding his face being shredded like so much pulled pork. The two fighters broke apart, and where Sora slid backwards to a stop with his sword held vertical in front of him in a standard guard, Ichigo stopped on a half-crouch on one knee with his sword held perpendicular to his face.  
  
“I don’t want to kill you…” he said. Though scowling, there was no hate nor fear to be found on his face. “You and Inoue really need to talk things out. That’s good and fine, yeah? We don’t want to hurt you, not even the midget. If you just stand down and give back her sword, we’ll forget about all of this, and we’ll see if we can trust you to stay around with Orihime. You’re dead, but you’re here, so if that’s what Orihime needs then I don’t care what the rules say about that.”  
  
His grip on his reishi blade tightened. “To be able to see your loved ones again after they’re dead – that’s just fine!” He shouted.  
  
Oh. I see. Crazy as Sora might be, at least he was around and human-shaped again. I guess we never considered it before, Ichigo must be envying Orihime because she had this chance to see her departed family again. If Masaki Kurosaki had not been eaten by a Hollow…  
  
Since Ichigo could see ghosts from a very young age, Ichigo must have hoped that she wouldn’t leave them so completely and so suddenly.  
  
That injustice made him harden his heart and turn into this scowly teen angry at the world.  
  
“So if we can’t trust you not to run away or just try and kill Inoue again, then I’ll just have to chop your arms and legs off, how about that? Just stand down, and you’ll be a part of her life again!”  
  
Holy shit, Ichigo, what. So fierce, Ichigo!  
  
Sora Inoue would not die. Ichigo would not allow it. Even though Orihime and Ichigo were not close enough yet that he still wouldn’t refer to her by her first name, Ichigo clearly would literally go to hell to drag Sora back if he had to. For a friend, he would do this. For living vicariously through her reconnection with a loved one, through their shared pain of losing the person they most depended upon, he would do this.  
  
Yet Sora snarled again. He raised Sode no Shirayuki up, and a strong wind caused by high-pressure reiatsu slashed through the street. His entire body began to glow bright purple, and reishi wires began to spiral around the sword – not from the tip, but coiled around the zanpakto starting from the hilt.  
  
“My lord! More intruders!”  
  
“What?!” He spat at his Hollow assistant. Then, frowning, he looked towards the distance.  
  
Uryuu Ishida blurred into existence on top of a nearby roof, with Orihime’s gigai over his shoulders in a [fireman’s carry.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fireman%27s_carry) While it would be very cumbersome, he could still get some slight draw from his Quincy bow from such a position.  
  
Sora spun his glare back towards Ichigo. “This isn’t over, you children! You don’t know what’s coming. You’re just going to get Orihime hurt because of your playing around! Only the dead will know peace.”  
  
He grasped at Russicrust’s right shoulder, and then both Hollows just abruptly… vanished. Even Rukia looked surprised. Stealth? Speed? Whatever it was, such complete ease at escaping had vast tactical implications.  
  
…that’s it?  
  
We’re done?  
  
We survived!  
  
Yay.  
  
... so why was I left with the feeling that we were acting the part of the villains here? Weird.  
  
Ichigo stood up straight and the Seele Schneider deactivated with a slow hiss. He rubbed at the rotator joint of his right shoulder. He was used to muscle pain, but the feeling of externalizing his reiryoku was a unique sort of soreness.  
  
Uryuu dropped down to beside him, almost the same time as Rukia leapt down from her high ground on the opposite house. There was a flicker of approval in his gaze, going from the Seele Schneider in Ichigo’s hands up towards Ichigo’s scowl. “How is Miss Inoue?” Uryuu asked.  
  
“I don’t know. Jin got here ahead of us.”  
  
“…then she is probably fine then,” he answered. Uryuu turned towards the second floor and shouted at me, “Tanaka, Miss Inoue is fine, I trust?!”  
  
“She’s unconscious, but just exhausted!” I shouted back. Tatsuki went to stand up and beside me, that she looked fine was all the proof they needed. She would die first before allowing anyone to hurt Orihime. “Princess was badass!” I added. Then “Ichigo, you were badass! Keep it up! Rukia, you were awemenade!”  
  
“What does that even mean?” Ichigo shouted back.  
  
"A fruity drink for salty people, but that is not important right now," Uryuu spoke up. "We all need to get out of here before we are made to answer inconvenient questions."  
  
Meanwhile Kon slid out to peek over the hole in the wall to inspect the gigai. He glanced from it and back towards Orihime's sleeping form, and then back out towards the gigai on Uryuu's shoulders. His lion eyes glittered at the way gravity worked on Orihime's anatomy.  
  
"I approve of this merit or service!" he said happily. Tatsuki reflexively stomped on him. "Why!" he wailed.  
  
Behind them I could see Chad unfold up to his full height from taking cover near a wall. Sensible guy. He was entirely useless in this encounter, but only a fool believes that a man who doesn’t talk much and hides his eyes behind his curly bangs does not hear anything. I could feel he was taking in everything that just happened, mulling over it all in his mind, until it would coalesce into a meaning that would fit his ethos.  
  
Tatsuki grimaced at the devastation that spread out before us.  
  
She asked with a whisper, “Why aren’t the police here yet? How is no one noticing that all of this is happening? I know my mom’s out right now to visit her friends, but no one else is in the other houses?! How is anyone supposed to explain all of… all of  _this!”_  she waved at the shattered street and demolished property walls. “Someone should have noticed!”  
  
I nodded. “… You’re right, someone should have.”  
  
“…We’re normal people, not… not like  _you_ ,” she hissed. “So we could be killed at any time, any day, and we wouldn’t even notice it?!”  
  
“…Again, correct, my sweet.”  
  
She punched me in the arm. “That’s… that’s not fair. Jin! What’s really going on here?!”  
  
I licked my lips. Then after a few moments I declared “… I surely have no idea!”  
  
She punched me in the arm again. Tatsuki was in no mood for snarky games.  
  
"No, seriously. I have no idea."  


 

-x-

  
[Cheesus Christ](http://dankchristianmemes.com/cheesus-christ/), that was an exhausting day. I practically limped home. Some day I might reflect upon the trolling I was doing to Chizuru might be earning me bad karma, but certainly not that day. Upon opening the front door, I saw my little sister alone sitting in the living room couch and reading a magazine. She looked up at me and gasped.  
  
I pounced at her.  
  
“Miyakooo!” I wailed and swept her up into a hug.  
  
“Neechan stop.”  
  
We began to swirl around, with her feet not touching the ground. I began to rub my cheeks against hers. “Miyako, save me with your cuteness. I need you Miyakooo.”  
  
“Neechan, I am not a cat.”  
  
“Nyuhuhuhu...”  
  
“Neechan,  _you_  are not a cat.”  
  
“Miyako, I have just had the worst day. It’s so stressful having to be the sensible one! Please, Miyako.”  
  
“Neechan, I am sure I have no idea why you even _have_ that problem,” she sighed. “But there, there.” She began to pat and stroke the top of my head.  
  
Nyahahaha.  
  
We collapsed down onto the couch. And with my head on my little sister’s lap and with her patting my head, finally... I felt safe. Defenseless. Warm. My brain was just made of candy.  
  
Sleepy.  
  
... that will do.  
  
... I tried hard enough. Let me rest for a little bit.  
  
While I nodded off, as if from a very long distance away she whispered as she contentedly stroked my hair “… Be strong, brother. And when you can’t be strong, I will be strong for you.”  
  
To this day. I am so very very sorry for what happened to you, Miyako.  


 

-x-


End file.
